Author: Mark Smith
Title: Plunging into the Pool
Summary: Mark and John hadn't seen each other since high school, but
John's return after 24 years leads to an encounter unlike anything either
of them had ever experienced.
Keywords: MM Bi Cons Solo Voyeur Literary

   Plunging Into the Pool: An Old Friend is Worth the Wait

   Copyright (C) 2012 Mark Smith

   This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike
License.  All other rights reserved.

   This story is inspired by actual events, but names, dates, places and
other details have been changed to protect the privacy of the individuals
involved.  Any mention of businesses, celebrities or other trademarks does
not imply any connection to this story; there is none.  No other person
mentioned in this story has contributed to or is aware of it; it represents
only the author's views.  Not all of the events described in this story
actually occurred.

   Discuss this story anonymously on my website.  All comments are welcome!

   www.plungingintothepool.blogspot.com Act Two, Overture

   The plan was that I would pick John up after work.  He finished a bit
early, so he called me around 5pm and said he was just about to hop in the
shower and would be ready at 5:30.  I sat at my desk, counting the minutes
(and thinking about him in the shower!) before leaving at 5:20 to swing by
in my car and pick him up at the entrance to his apartment building.

   We hadn't made any other plans, which I think was because we were both
feeling tentative about the whole thing.  After what had happened Tuesday
night, and then the apologies we had each made on Wednesday, I was eager to
get back to the way things had been after our dinner.  But I was also a bit
suspicious of him, so I didn't want to put myself out there by making any
elaborate plans, and I guess he didn't want to press things by suggesting
any.

   When I arrived at his apartment building, he was waiting for me by the
little pull up space.  I have to say that even though I was still a little
apprehensive, he really caught my eye.  He was wearing khaki shorts and a
tight, dark red t-shirt that really showed off ... well, everything!  His
muscular arms, shoulders, pecs, even his abs under the nearly skintight
fabric.  I got an even better view of his body than when he wore that polo
at dinner, and I had a hard time not sneaking glances at him as he got into
the car.

   When he settled into the seat next to me, I could immediately smell his
cologne, and I saw that his hair was still slightly damp and his curls were
in little ringlets.  He made quite an impression, to say the least.  To say
the most, he looked just about as sexy as he ever had, and I immediately
felt a bit underdressed, since I was just wearing my "uniform" of casual,
flat-front khakis and a blue oxford dress shirt.  I also felt myself
getting a little worried and defensive about my feelings, as I started to
realize the effect that his sitting in the car right there was having on
me. I started wondering how much of a fool I could be to think the t-shirt
and cologne were for me.  Even after what he had explained to me about
Tuesday, I figured that he had gotten all dressed up because he thought we
were going to go out drinking and he wanted to pick up women, or at least
be ready if the opportunity presented itself.  After all, that's what I
would have wanted to do, if I was in his place.

   As a result, we just sat there in the car for a minute, not saying
anything after an initial hello.  He was clearly nervous about putting me
off by suggesting anything that I wouldn't like.  I felt the same way.

   Finally, he broke the ice by saying, "I haven't seen much of Charlotte,
so I don't really know what there is to do."

   I looked at him and thought back to our dinner the week before.  I
thought about the initiative he had taken to contact me in the first place.
I remembered that what I liked most was that he was open and natural with
me.  He said what he meant with confidence, without worrying about what I
would think about it.  I decided to do the same thing, not to play any
games with him.  After all, if we were going to be friends, or maybe even
something more, I would want it to be after he knew me as I was.

   "You know, I haven't really been out much around town recently.  That's
not really my thing these days.  Why don't we go back to my house?  It's
nice.  We can have a drink and I can tell you about some of the plans I've
made for remodeling."

   "That sounds great," he said, and I had to fight to keep my eyes from
locking with his when he smiled.

   I started up the car, put my eyes on the road and pulled out into the
street.  The short ride back to my house was quiet; we didn't say much. 
Act Two, Scene 1 Mark's home; evening.

   We got home in a few minutes and went from the garage into the kitchen.
There was just the usual awkwardness like when you bring someone new into
your home.  We kind of stood there and he looked around.  I have to say
that it didn't strike me at the time that here he was, John, standing in my
kitchen, and we were completely alone and I had no plans for the weekend!
It just didn't occur to me at the time; I sort of shifted into host mode
and showed him around the house like I would any guest.

   Since I was preoccupied with the upcoming remodeling, I started talking
about how I planned to redo the kitchen by taking down some walls and
putting in a new island.  Working around the house and design in general
has been a passion of mine since I was a kid watching "This Old House," and
I think he enjoyed listening to me.  I'll admit that I was nervous
initially and by talking about something mundane and familiar, I could
relax a little.

   After talking about the kitchen for a few minutes, I took him
downstairs. I didn't take him back to the master bedroom to talk about my
plans for redoing the bathroom - that would have been too much for sure!

   We went down to the rec room, which is really just a big finished space
that is an informal combination of den and TV room.  It was a warm evening,
so it was nice to be downstairs where it's cooler.  Also, it's where the
alcohol is!

   I offered him a drink and he was happy to have a G&T with me.  I went
ahead and made them both rather strong, the way I usually would.  We talked
for a few minutes about my plans for the basement and then sat down on the
big comfy couch in front of the TV.

   As we sat there on the couch, enjoying our drinks, we both quieted down
and there came a time when we were both just sitting there.  I couldn't
help but think about when I had put this couch to a different purpose the
week before, that night after our dinner, when I had vividly fantasized
about him.  I looked over at him and he smiled at me, and I had to look
away, out the window at the trees.

   In an instant, there was just a rush of thoughts in my head.  Maybe the
alcohol encouraged it a bit, but I doubt it made much difference.  Instead,
what had the greatest effect was simply that he was just sitting there, and
he didn't seem to be expecting anything or demanding anything.

   It had to be that all he wanted was to be with me, to talk with me, to
enjoy my company.  After all the stress and misunderstanding earlier in the
week, the only explanation I could come up with was that he truly was, as
he said, embarrassed and wanting to make amends.  If he had wanted to go
out and pick up women, I would have detected at least some fidgeting, or
the least sign of impatience, but that didn't seem to be what he wanted.

   And then, oh my God!  The t-shirt, the cologne!  Holy shit, they were
for me!  He had dressed like that for me.  He was sexy for me!

   Now my mind was reeling.  It had happened.  That guy I had wondered
about had come into my life, and it turned out to be John, the only guy I
had ever been truly attracted to.  He was gorgeous and sexy (did I mention
that already?), and he was funny and intelligent and interesting, and we
had everything in common.

   And he's sitting right here in my house.  And we don't have any plans.
And I've got the entire weekend free.

   Holy shit.  Holy fucking shit!

   I managed to look back at him.  I think I maintained my composure.  He
needed to do only one more thing to make my fantasy-turned-reality
complete. He had to make a move on me.  I was ready, but I wasn't going to
initiate anything.  He had to pick up the signs and do that himself.

   "How about that pool?" he said.

   I have to say that this threw me for such a loop that I just said,
"Wha..." The look of confusion on my face must have been priceless.

   "Your pool," he said.  "I'd like to see the pool."

   "Oh, yeah, sure," I said, not really thinking.  "It's back here."

   I put down my glass and got up from the couch, turning to head down the
hallway.  With everything that was going on in my mind, I had completely
neglected to show him the pool, which I would usually show to guests.  To
this day, I don't know what I was thinking.  Was I just pre-occupied, or
did I think it had too many sexual connotations?  Anyway, those
connotations were certainly not a disadvantage now.

   We walked down the hallway to the guest bedroom.  I had installed the
Endless Pool by making another doorway from the downstairs guest bedroom to
the walk-out porch, and then enclosing the pool with windows on three sides
of the new room.

   "So here's the pool," I said, walking over to turn on the lights in the
pool and then open the glass double-doors that led to the pool.  "It's got
this cover." I was just making small talk to distract myself from all the
obvious implications of what was happening.  I turned the crank to open the
cover and there it was.  The pool.  Just about the most sensual item in the
house.  For me at least.

   And he's an avid swimmer.

   "Neat," he said, coming closer and smiling.  He seemed genuinely excited
to see it, as I remember I was when I first saw an Endless Pool.  "This
room is really cool.  What a view." He was looking at the eight picture
windows that cover the three exterior walls of the pool room.  He was also
standing very close to me.

   "Yeah," I said, excitedly, continuing to displace my feelings.  For some
reason, I stepped up onto the edge of the pool and walked around to the
other side of the pool room.  "These windows over here open completely." I
came to the windows on the other side, which have a little latch and open
completely, frame and all, on a hinge.  "This way the room opens up to the
back yard."

   Unfortunately, those windows stick and are usually difficult to open,
and I had to fumble with the latch.  "Almost got it," I said nervously.

   "It's all right," he said.  I could hear the smile in his voice and I
knew he was watching me as I struggled with the window; I couldn't look at
him and I was getting more nervous.  I felt sort of trapped.

   "There, got it," I said, as I opened the window.  "See?" I asked.

   "Yeah, that's cool," he said, smiling.  But he wasn't looking at the
windows at all.  He was looking right at me.

   "How does it work?" he asked.

   "Oh, I'll show you," I said, walking back around the pool, intensely
aware of his eyes following me but not looking at him directly.

   I came back to the controls on the pool, standing close to him.  "You
just push this button to start the motor." It started.  "And you adjust
this knob to control the speed."

   He reached past me, brushing against me with his arm and chest, to turn
the knob.  He turned it all the way up, so that the water was really
churning.  He left it like that, and didn't pull away from me.

   "Wow, that's strong."

   "Yeah," I said, "I can't swim with it like that, it's too strong for
me."

   "Oh?  More like this then." He turned it back a bit, so the current was
still forceful, but toned down.

   "Yeah, like that."

   We both stood there for a minute, looking at the water.

   Thinking back to this moment, I'm not sure if I'm embellishing or if I
had really noticed then how John's physical presence, the way he was
standing next to me, had started to take precedence over his verbal
presence.  As I'm writing this out now, I'm noticing that in contrast to
our two earlier meetings, we really didn't say much to each other after we
had gone downstairs and I had fixed our drinks.  John's overall manner had
become much more reserved, but he didn't have any less of a presence for
me. In fact, I felt it even more strongly than I ever had before.

   But if we really had stood there for a moment, just looking at the
water, as I remember it, then I'm certain that John broke our reverie when
he said, "Well, let's give it a try."

   Just like that, he took a step back and started pulling his t-shirt up
and out of his shorts.

   In that instant, I was brought back to that time in his car, where in
one motion he let his car seat go back and set his cock free for that girl.
He had this way of just moving like that, all in one motion.  I found it
incredibly sexy and ... overwhelming.

   "Wait a minute, you didn't bring a suit, did you?" I don't know why I
said that.  A stupid question, I realize, and why was I trying to slow him
down when he's undressing?

   "No, I guess not," he said, sort of sheepishly.

   I took the opportunity of giving him a glance up and down.  I don't know
what purpose it served, but it was what I wanted to do at the time!  "You
can probably wear one of mine, it might be a bit small but it should do."

   "Ok," he said.  I remember he pulled this off quite naturally.  I mean,
for me the whole thing was really just too much, but I don't remember him
seeming nervous at all.  Just quite matter of fact about it.

   I turned and walked out of the bedroom, and he followed me into the
bathroom right next door, where I keep my swimsuits in a drawer.  I opened
it and turned to him.  "Here they are, just pick one out."

   "Ok."

   I walked back in the bedroom.  For some reason, my apprehension from
high school sort of came back again.  It occurred to me that I didn't
really know where he was going with this, or what I was supposed to do.  On
the other hand, I was aware that I have changed a lot since high school.  I
felt much more confident and relaxed about the whole thing.  What would
happen, would happen.  I tried not to think about the magnitude of what was
happening.

   That is, until John walked into the room a moment later.

   He was wearing a dark olive green, squarecut suit I bought at H&M.  It's
the most modest swimsuit I have for swimming in the pool, but that's really
not saying much.  It's a typical squarecut - low rise, no leg to speak of.
But it wasn't the swimsuit I noticed.

   Oh my fucking God, he was built!  I mean, ok, he wasn't an Undergear
model, but close to it.  He was nicely tanned, his torso was completely
hairless and smooth, and he had everything going on that I remembered from
high school.  His arms I'd already seen, but the definition in the muscles
of his shoulders, his round developed pecs, everything!  Granted, he didn't
have a true washboard stomach, but he had really nice definition in his
abs, giving the hint of a six pack, and those little divots right above his
hip bone (which, on my body, were just barely visible) were clearly defined
and inviting to the touch.  Those divots led to sexy little hips and very
muscly thighs.  And a very nice, ahem, package.

   "Whoa," I said, involuntarily.

   He surely noticed my reaction.  He just stopped and smiled at me.

   "Man, you have really kept in shape!" I just couldn't help it, I didn't
try to hold back.  I mean, seriously, he was about the best looking guy of
his age I'd ever seen in real life like this.

   "Thanks," he said.  "I've been swimming pretty regularly."

   He just walked past me to the pool and ... yes!  There was that
perfectly developed, muscly, round butt, now wonderfully displayed for me
in a swimsuit that apparently he could just manage to squeeze into.  I
mean, he really did justice to that suit!  And the muscles in his back and
his shoulders were no disappointment.

   He got to the pool, then turned around and smiled at me, as if he were
expecting something.  Up to this point, I was so stunned that I hadn't
moved since he walked into the room.  I just tried to stroll over as
casually as I could to the controls for the pool, which are on the edge
facing the room.  As before, this meant I had to stand right next to him.

   "They say it's easiest if you start over in that end," I explained,
trying to keep cool.  "I'll start the motor and you just swim into the
current; I'm sure you'll get the hang of it."

   He didn't move.  He just smiled at me.  "Aren't you going to get in,
too?"

   Actually, the thought hadn't even occurred to me.  I was so overwhelmed
by him that I hadn't even thought about changing into a swimsuit and
getting in the pool with him.  Let's say that one more time: getting in the
pool with John.

   "Oh, sure, right," I said.  I couldn't even pretend to be nonchalant
about this.  "I'll be right back."

   I went into the bathroom and stopped and stared at myself in the mirror.
I tried to control the wild expression I felt rising to my face.  I forced
myself to catch my breath.  "Ok," I thought to myself, "John just asked me
to change into my swimsuit."

   Actually, even though I had been looking forward to exactly this for so
long, I was more than nervous about getting nearly naked with John.  I knew
now, for sure, that my body couldn't measure up to his.  But I only thought
this for an instant.  After all, he had to have a pretty good idea what I
looked like, and the fact was, the time had come.  There was no delaying
it.

   I opened the drawer to decide which of several suits to wear.  Right on
top was my favorite, a very tiny green bikini that I had bought in Europe,
and had carefully cared for since then.  It fits me perfectly, with about a
one-inch band on the hip and just enough coverage on my ass, but without
any excess fabric anywhere.  I momentarily thought of throwing caution to
the wind and wearing it, but I didn't want to rush anything.

   I also looked at my standard, blue Speedo bikini, but I settled on a
black squarecut, to match what he had chosen.  (Actually, it didn't occur
to me then that he may have looked at all my suits before choosing the one
he did.  I wonder if I could have handled that thought!)

   I got out of my clothes as quickly as I could, glancing at the pile of
clothes John had left, and then slipped into my suit.  I took just a second
to primp a bit in the mirror.  Other than running my fingers through my
hair and straightening the suit (thankfully, or not, I was so nervous that
my erection was completely eliminated), there wasn't much I could do.

   I stepped back into the bedroom by the pool and was confronted by the
sight of John sitting on the edge of the pool, looking at me expectantly.
(The pool is built up about 18" off the floor.) He looked more than
incredible.  He gripped the edge of the pool with both hands, which flexed
the muscles in his arms and shoulders.  One leg was bent and the other
stretched out before him.  But most of all I couldn't help but notice how
this position accentuated his crotch, and everything he had there.  I
tried, but failed, to keep my eyes off his bulge.

   But as I walked across the room toward him, I did see that he was
looking at me and it was even harder for me to keep my eyes away from his.
There was nothing that I could say in this situation, so I didn't try. 
When I got about 6 inches away from him, I just stood there.

   His eyes dropped over my body, and then he said, somewhat incongruously,
"You've had this suit for a while, haven't you?"

   "Huh, how?" was all I managed to say.

   He reached out and pinched a bit of the fabric on my leg, where the last
remains of the "Speedo" label were peeling off the suit.  "It's coming
off," he said.

   "Oh, right.  I've had this a while." Oh my God!  The effect of just the
brush of his fingers against my leg!  Could he see that I was getting hard?

   Without really moving away from him, I pivoted to set my bottom on the
pool, about a foot away from his.  "It's easiest to get in like this," I
said, raising my legs and spinning around to put my feet on the stainless
steel bench that runs around the inside perimeter of the pool, at about the
same level as the floor.  He did the same, so we were now sitting together
on the edge of the pool with our feet in the water.

   We just looked at each other for less than a second, before we each
pushed off to lift our butts off the edge and stand in the water.  When
standing in the pool, the water comes to about the top of my suit, just
under my belly button.  Since we were about the same height, it was the
same for John.  The sun had started to set, now, so since the pool room
faces east there was very little light coming through the windows.  The
only artificial light came from the lights of the pool.  This meant that
the light reflected and refracted through the water before illuminating
John's torso from below.  I can only hope that what I have described so far
can give you an idea of how incredibly sexy this image was.

   And there I was, just a few feet away.  I couldn't keep my eyes off him
and I had no idea if my expression was betraying the pure lust I felt.

   Still, I managed to go through the motions of showing him the pool. 
Either he didn't intend to make a move on me, or he was enjoying the
anticipation of this process, or maybe he liked the way I was ogling him.
In any case, he just stood there expectantly, as if he just wanted to give
the pool a try.

   I turned around to get my goggles and handed them to him.  "Like I said,
you stand over there," I said, glancing over at the end of the pool as I
walked over to the controls.

   He put on the goggles and then looked over at me.  Maybe I would have
found anything about him to be sexy, but somehow the fact that I now could
not see his eyes became a turn on for me.

   "Ready?" I asked.

   "Sure," he nodded.

   I turned on the pool and twisted the control knob to nearly the most
powerful setting.  The water started to churn and I noticed how it hit John
at the most delicious part of his abs, before flowing across those divots
to the small of his back.  The water was caressing him just where I most
wanted to.

   As I raised my eyes over his body, I saw that since the water was
churning the light was really dancing across his torso.  He looked even
more amazing, if that were possible, as his incredible body was bathed in
this sparkling light.  Since he was standing with his back to the window, I
couldn't see his face, or his expression, too well.  I'm probably
embellishing but, looking back on it now, I can still see the sparkle of
the lights reflecting off his goggles, as he looked at me for just a moment
before he dived into the pool.

   As an experienced swimmer, he entered the water very gracefully and
propelled himself forward just by kicking his legs for about 15 seconds
before surfacing.  Looking at his body undulating like that to keep himself
steady against the current I thought that his body was just so powerfully
"male." When he surfaced, I didn't know where to look first.  His whole
body was right there, floating before me, less than a foot away.  I guess I
first noticed his arms, as they rhythmically rose out of the water and
stretched forward and back.  The pivoting of his arms led me to his
shoulders and back, which were raised just out of the water but coated by
the white foam of the current.  Looking there, I couldn't help but notice
that his hair was so long that, when wet, it reached down to the top of his
back, to the small cleft in the center formed by his trapezius muscle.  It
would have been so easy to just reach out and let the current run his hair
through my fingers.  I doubt he would have noticed, or minded if he did. 
Of course, following his back led me to his cute butt which, along with his
hips and thighs, wiggled back and forth as one unit as his muscular legs
propelled him forward.  I felt I could have watched him swim forever, and I
could no longer restrain my erection.

   After about two or three minutes, however, he slowed and then dropped to
one knee, raised his head, pushed the goggles off his face and looked at
me. The current was so strong, however, that as it churned against his
pectoral muscles his body was buffeted back and forth.  Still, he managed
to say, breathlessly, "That was great!  I'd like to see you give it a try."

   "Ok," I said, rather meekly, taking the goggles from him.  It was still
rather overwhelming for me.

   We had to change positions, and with the current churning the water it
was easiest for me just to release myself and be pushed toward him, while
he sort of shoved forward from his knees to land where I had been standing,
by the controls and out of the main part of the current.  There was no way
for us to keep from bumping against each other as we did so, and I
momentarily wondered if he could feel my erection.  His whole body seemed
so hard to me that I couldn't really tell about him.

   "You'll have to turn it down a bit," I said, "I can't swim like you
can."

   He twisted the control knob and said, "Is that all right?"

   It was still very strong, but I didn't want to disappoint him.  I pushed
off the back of the pool and immediately started to swim as strongly as I
could.  I realized that I didn't enter the water as gracefully as he had.

   Somehow, I found the energy to keep up with the current as I used my
entire body to drive myself forward.  When I raised my head to breathe, I
could see him looking at me and I wondered if he saw how I was looking at
him earlier.  Still, through the goggles and the water, I couldn't see his
expression.  I returned my focus to swimming as efficiently as I could,
keeping my body straight and properly positioned.

   I got so lost in the pleasure of swimming that I was startled when I
looked over in his direction and saw his face, under the water, looking at
me.  In my surprise, I stopped and dropped to one knee.  John, too, was on
his knees as he raised his head above the water.

   "What was that?" I asked, completely out of breath.

   "It's really cool," he said excitedly.  "Under water I can see
everything.  I can see exactly how you're moving."

   "So how'd I do?" I couldn't help but ask.

   "You were doing great!" he said enthusiastically.  "I mean, I can tell
you've never had lessons or anything, but other than that you're a very
good swimmer."

   "Thanks," I said, and then after a moment I couldn't help but say, "Now
you swim, I wanna see."

   We switched positions again, and this time I had the impression he
didn't even try to avoid bumping up against me, although that may have been
my imagination.  He started swimming, and I turned up the strength of the
current.

   When I dropped my head under water and forced my eyes open, I realized
that until that point, I really had not had a good look at John's body. 
But now, I did!  While it was nice to look at John standing in front of me,
to watch him move like this was beyond wonderful.  Not only did I see his
chest and shoulder muscles flex as he pivoted his arms, but even better was
the way I could see his abs and the muscles of his divots flex to twist his
hips back and forth.  It was impossible not to imagine him making the same
moves as he lay on top of me, and in fact over the 30 seconds or so I
watched him, I found that the force of the current pushed my legs out and
toward the back of the pool, causing my head to naturally drop while moving
closer to him.  In other words, the current was acting to position my body
horizontally beneath his.  Before this could happen, however, I was forced
to surface for more air.

   He came up too, and smiled at me.  I had to wonder if he could see me as
I watched him and, if he could, what my expression had betrayed.  But
still, it seemed as if he was primarily interested in swimming.

   "Here," he said, handing me the goggles.  "I want to try something."

   We switched positions again, and I remember feeling like I was starting
to understand the natural rhythm of the way he moved.

   Without saying anything, I started swimming, and I soon felt his hand on
my back, between my shoulder blades.  Also, I could hear him speaking, over
the sound of the motor and the water.

   "Try to keep your back high in the water, so that you can feel my hand."

   As much as I wanted to feel his hand on my back, it was very difficult
for me to swim straight and keep my body properly positioned.  Still, I
tried my best for him.

   After two or three minutes, I came to a stop and looked at him.  "How
was that?" I asked.

   "Good," he said.  "If you try to stay like that you'll swim much more
efficiently."

   "Thanks," I said, sincerely.  "Hey, can you show me something else?"

   "What's that?"

   "I'd like to see another stroke.  I can only do the crawl.  Can you show
me another one?"

   For some reason, I had become genuinely curious about how well he could
swim.  I guess seeing him like this just made me wonder how capable he
really was.

   "Sure," he said, looking around the pool.  It was now getting dark and
the only light came from the lights of the pool.  As the water continued
churning, it gave a very mysterious air to the room.

   "The pool's too small for the `fly, but I think I could show you the
breast stroke."

   He went over and stood at the end of the pool.  "It's like this," he
said, as he started doing the arm motions as he stood in the water.

   I watched him intently.  "Ok," I said.

   Then, he slipped under the water and started that same undulating kick
that kept his body steady beneath the water as the current flowed over him.
I wondered if he was showing off a bit (he was entitled!) as he stayed
under the water for about 30 seconds.  When he surfaced, the coordinated
motion of his arms, shoulders, hips and legs was very impressive, as he
bobbed and twisted forward.  Most of all, I truly enjoyed watching him bob
that round, muscular butt of his up and down as he propelled himself
through the water.  And of course, I thought about laying beneath him and
holding that same butt in my hands as he pumped against me or into me.

   After a few minutes of this, I couldn't resist dropping beneath the
water again, to see his body from below.  I let my legs be pushed back by
the current as my head dropped to the level of the benches.  You won't be
surprised that I let my focus move quickly down his body to those hips, as
I once again imagined him thrusting against me and into me.

   All too soon, though, I had to surface, and he stopped and looked at me.
It may be that I'm embellishing, but I do remember a special gleam in his
eye when he took off the goggles and said, "Your turn," as he handed them
to me.

   "But I don't know the breaststroke."

   "That's ok, just swim as strong as you can."

   I went to the end of the pool and tried to enter the water as gracefully
as I could.  When I reached the proper position in the middle of the pool,
I was rewarded by his hand on the middle of my back.  As I took a breath, I
tried to twist my head and even smile at him, but my focus on swimming as
strongly and as best I could made this difficult.  I tried to focus on
keeping my body correctly positioned for him.

   As I did so, I thought I felt his hand move over to my shoulder blade,
and then down to the small of my back, just above the waistband of my
swimsuit, but the flow of the water across my back made it difficult to be
sure.

   After swimming for a few minutes, I felt my breath come more quickly and
the muscles in my chest and shoulders start to burn.  Still, I kept going
as best I could, until all of a sudden the pool motor stopped.

   I dropped to one knee and as I pushed the goggles up, I said, "What'd
you do that for?"

   John was smiling at me.  He had dropped in the water too, so it rose to
his chest.

   "I wanted you to save your energy," he said, keeping that same smile.

   "What for?" I asked.  I can be so dense, sometimes.

   "For me."

   And then in that single, abrupt motion I was so familiar with, his arms
had encircled me and his lips had pressed against mine.

   For an instant, I didn't know what to do.  I think I was in complete
shock.  My body just froze.

   He pulled back to look at me, and all of a sudden I remembered that
there was not much I had to do in a situation like this.

   Just relax my body.

   Close my eyes.

   And part my lips.

   John would take care of the rest.

   * * *

   And he certainly did.  John gently probed my lips with his own before
introducing his tongue into my mouth; tentatively for just a moment, but
soon forcefully as he felt my body melt against his and one of my hands
moved up to the back of his head while the other rested lightly on his
shoulder.  He raised both his hands and gripped my head, keeping me exactly
where he wanted me.  The water supported our bodies, as our hips sort of
floated around before naturally coming together, and I felt him wrap one
leg around my hips and thighs and pull me close to him.

   I don't know exactly how long we stayed like that - I wasn't keeping
track of the time!  - but I do remember we stayed like that for a rather
long while, just kissing and not saying anything to each other.  The only
sounds we made were little grunts and moans of satisfaction, as we explored
each other and began to learn about how the other preferred to touch and to
be touched.  We were getting to know each other in a physical way, just as
we had earlier gotten acquainted as friends.  It was obvious to me that we
had each been looking forward to this for a very long time.  Far longer
than since John had called me ten days earlier.

   Every once in a while we would stop and look at each other, but all we
needed to do was smile, no words were necessary, and we would go back to
kissing.  I was reminded how much I really like kissing, and I was glad to
learn that apparently he did too!  Neither of us felt the need to do much
more at this point.  Occasionally, our lips would stray to the other's
cheek, or over to an ear or down the neck, but I think we liked most the
sensation of our tongues exploring each other in the little dance that they
could do instinctively, without much conscious guidance.  It was as if,
after forcing them to do so much talking, we just let our lips and tongues
play with each other as they had really wanted to all along.

   We each kept our hands above our waists, too.  I don't think we were
trying to be chaste, it was just that there was so much there to keep us
occupied, for us each to explore.  Of course I got plenty of time to fully
explore his curls, made all the more exciting since when they were wet they
seemed to wrap themselves around my fingers by themselves.  I was also
reminded of how much I like when someone plays with my hair.

   I also dropped my hands to his shoulders, and around to his back.  But
as for that part of our bodies, I remember most of all the feeling of
pressing my chest up against his, so the abundant and toned muscles we each
have there could sort of flex and massage themselves together, as they did
their own little dance just like our tongues and the rest of our bodies
did. This was one of the things I noticed right away that was different
about a man - his body was so much more muscular than any other body I had
ever held.  Even though, as I said, he was not bulked up, I found his
muscle tone and strength alone to be very exciting.

   The other thing I noticed right away, of course, was his erection.  As I
said, our bodies were just sort of floating in the water.  We were pretty
much on our knees and the water was up to our chests.  He instinctively had
wrapped one leg around me, and I just let my hips and legs float against
him.  In this position, I was well aware of his hard cock, more or less
pressed against mine.  But I guess we both knew that there would be plenty
of time for us to attend to our erections later, and for now we just
enjoyed them and focused on kissing each other and just the general feeling
of our bodies pressed against each other.

   After some time, however, I did finally shift a bit.  Moving my hands up
to the back of his head, I pulled him close so he knew I wanted him to
nuzzle my neck.  I looked out across the nearly dark room, the light now
peaceful as the water was still except for the rhythmic waves that matched
our own motions.  "Oh, John," is all I said.

   He gave a little laugh and focused his lips on my ear, something which
drives me absolutely crazy.

   I think he knew that.

   "Oh, John.  Oh, God, John.  This is just wonderful," I continued with
little moans of delight.

   After a while, he pulled back, looked at me, and smiled.  I could see
how proud of himself he was, and I tried to show by my smile back that he
should be.  After all, he had done it - he had given me exactly what I
wanted.

   I rewarded him with a simple peck on the lips.

   As delightful as this was for me - and it certainly was that - the way
he just smiled back at me made me wonder.  I guess I can't help it, it's
too much the way I am.  I had to wonder, is this what he wanted?  Was it
all he wanted?  What would we do next?  For some strange reason, I imagined
that we would get dressed, and maybe go out for dinner or something.  I
don't know why I would think like that, but my mind just started racing.

   He must have been able to see my look of confusion, and this was another
of those moments when everything could have come crashing to a halt, but he
somehow knew what to do.  Maybe it was the just way he was.

   "I'm starting to get to know that look, Mark.  What's on your mind?" As
he said this, I felt his hands drop and wrap around my waist, and he pulled
me closer to him.

   I kept my hands loose around his shoulders and neck - his incredibly
sexy shoulders and neck.

   "I'm sorry, I guess I'm just wondering.  Now don't get me wrong, I love
this of course.  I don't even know how to explain how long I've wanted
exactly this." I looked at him directly.  "How long I've wanted you."

   He smiled at me, which I guess emboldened me a bit.  At least that was
on the table.

   "But, I mean," I continued, "I have to understand how this fits.  I
mean, like, for example." I paused.  "What about Susan and Michelle?"

   I had to ask that.  After all, I still had the impression from Tuesday,
three nights earlier, that something was going on between John and Susan.
Was there?  Was I just another fling for him, a conquest?  I wasn't sure
that would be bad, but if it was the case I wanted to know.

   Right away, John looked very embarrassed, but not like I had caught him
with his hand in the cookie jar.  It was more like he realized that I had
noticed something that he had been hoping I just wouldn't notice.

   "I know, Mark, it wasn't the best idea," he said, looking down at the
water.  But, thankfully, he didn't pull away from me.

   I wanted him to know that I wasn't looking to blame him.

   "It's ok, I'm not mad, John.  We already talked about it.  I understand,
but, I just want..." My voice trailed off.  I guess there was only so far I
could go in talking to him about this.

   But somehow, he looked at me and understood.  He looked at me, and
something seemed to dawn on him.  Then he turned to look over his shoulder,
as if he were thinking about it, before looking back at me.  He laughed
slightly, as if he couldn't possibly believe that what he was thinking was
true.

   "What?" I said, ready to laugh.  His behavior was about to crack me up.

   "You think," he began.  "Wait a minute, do you think?"

   "C'mon, what is it?"

   "Do you think there's something going on between me and Susan or
Michelle?"

   I could tell by his smile that there probably wasn't, so I allowed
myself to be a little playful when I asked, "Well is there?"

   "Oh my God, yes, Mark.  They are just the hottest little wenches I've
ever met.  You can't believe!"

   I pushed back against him and we separated a bit, though our legs were
still wrapped around each other under the water.  Now he was just being
silly.  I loved it.  Not the least because I felt reassured.

   "Ok, John, got that.  So what was the deal with inviting them on
Tuesday?"

   He looked at me, and his face became more serious although he was still
smiling.  He started to talk, then stopped.

   "Oh jeez," I said, splashing him.  This was getting too silly, but man
he was still so sexy.

   "You'll never believe me," he said, giving me a sheepish look that was
just ... well, only he could give me a look like that.

   I reached under the water to his waist, and gave his divots a little
caress that I tried to make as seductive as possible.  "Try me," I said, in
my best come hither voice.

   I guess he couldn't resist that.  He smiled back at me and his hands
moved down to my wrists.  But he didn't push me away.  Instead, he held my
hands in place.  Maybe I'd found something he liked.

   "Well, the truth is." He stopped, and smiled at me.

   I just smiled back at him and intensified the motion of my fingers
against his divots just a bit.

   "The truth is," he said, "I was using them to get to you."

   This was about the last thing I expected to hear.  It made me laugh so
hard that I had to pull my hands back and turn slightly away from him. 
Then I laughed more and finally looked back at him.

   He was smiling at me, but I could also see that he was truly
embarrassed. I moved to reassure him the best way I knew how, by getting
back in the position that felt most comfortable: my arms up over and around
his shoulders, my legs intertwined with his, my hips pressed against his.
Though I sensed his erection had diminished a bit, I still felt the
reassuring presence of his cock pressed against mine.

   "Now this sounds like something I want to hear in complete detail," I
said, as seductively as I could.

   "Well, ok," he said, as he dropped his hands to my waist and resettled
my hips a bit, so that my cock was pressed just a bit more closely against
his.  "The fact is, I've been planning this for a while."

   "Oh, really?" I asked.  This was getting good.

   "Yeah, I mean, I think I knew when I first called you, last Tuesday,
that this is what I wanted."

   My cock twitching against his told him everything he needed to know, and
I think his knowing how excited this made me emboldened him to continue. 
In fact, what he had just said was beyond a dream come true for me.

   "So, after our dinner, and then emailing with you last Friday, I just
didn't know what to do, exactly.  I mean, I'd never been in this situation
before."

   I just smiled at him, probably with a look that verged on disbelief on
my face.  After wondering so long what he was thinking about all this, to
hear him open up was beyond incredible for me.  I brought my hands back to
his divots, and pulled him a little closer.  I think the throbbing of my
cock continued to encourage him, as I could feel his erection returning
too.

   "I started thinking how I would go about it.  I don't know why I didn't
just call you and ask if you wanted to get together after work, but for
some reason I didn't."

   "I understand," I said, sympathetically.

   "I've been friends with Susan and Michelle for a while.  We've been
posted together like this a couple of times.  I'd told them that I had a
friend in Charlotte I was looking forward to seeing, and when I came into
work on Friday after our dinner, I guess I was talking about you a lot, so
they knew something was up.  You know how women are.

   "So Monday morning, Michelle was like, `Are you going to see your friend
again?  Why don't you give him a call?'

   "I'm not sure exactly what they thought but I guess they thought it was
kind of exciting, you know?  But I was like, `I don't know.' And that's
when Susan suggested that they could go along.  She didn't say so, but I
thought to myself that wasn't a bad idea, because it wouldn't be as weird,
you know, if they were there too instead of it just being me and you."

   I smiled.

   "What?" he asked, smiling too.

   "I was thinking the same thing too, when you invited me, so it's cool
that we were thinking the same thing.  Anyway, go on."

   He gave me one of his killer looks again, and then continued.  "On
Tuesday they were all excited about going out that night and they were
talking about meeting you and they were teasing me about it.  It was all
really weird, you know, because nothing like this had ever happened before
but I guess that's why they were all ...  well, you know how girls are
about this sort of thing."

   "Well, no, not exactly.  It's not like it happens every day," I laughed.
"But, yeah, I know what you mean."

   "But then, that night, after you left, Susan said to me, `I think he was
surprised to see us here.  He probably wanted to have more time with you.'
It's like she understood better than me."

   "When we were back at work the next day, Michelle told me about how she
had talked to you a bit, so I was glad about that.  I didn't know what to
do, but she and Susan both said something like, `Don't let yourself have
any regrets.  If there's anything you want to do, now's the time to do it.'
So that's why I called you."

   Hearing this from John, everything that Michelle said to me while
walking back to her apartment started to make more sense.  But although I
was happy to hear about how much he had thought about planning that
evening, it still seemed that he hadn't told me everything.

   "C'mon, there's something else," I said.  "We would just get together
for drinks?"

   "No," he said, smiling like the cat that swallowed a canary.

   I knew I was on to something, so my hands reached around to his back and
pulled him a little closer, and I brought my lips to his neck - working on
that sexy spot right where his neck joins his shoulder.  "So," I whispered,
"You said you were using them?  How?"

   He seemed to be really enjoying my attention to his neck.  (I made a
mental note of that.) "You're gonna think it's crazy."

   I brought my lips to his ears and whispered, "I like crazy, Johnny, tell
me your crazy idea."

   I guess this proved more than he could resist, so finally he told me his
plan.

   "Well, I thought that if all went right, then Susan and Michelle would,
well, you know, they're both really hot, so I thought they'd put you in the
mood."

   I couldn't deny that logic.  "Uh huh, go on."

   "And then the four of us could head back to my place."

   "Mmmm, sounds perfect."

   "And, well, they could help us to get things started."

   "I see," I said, working my lips down his neck.

   "And, then, well, when you were in the right mood, well, they would know
to just sorta take their leave."

   "Oh, and then what?" I think I liked where this was going.

   "Well, then, it would just be you and me together."

   "Oh, just you and me, huh?"

   "Yep," he said, pulling his head back to smile at me, "Just you and me."

   "And what would we do then, huh, just you and me together and me being
all in the mood and all?"

   "Well, I'm sure we would have found something."

   "Something like this?" I asked, moving my hand down to take a firm grip
of his ass for the first time.

   "Yeah, that would be a definite possibility," he replied, doing the same
thing and gripping my ass.  It felt beyond wonderful.

   At this point, neither of us could hold back any longer, and we fell
into a very intense, very prolonged kiss, our tongues struggling together
frantically, our hands working all over each other's ass and back.

   Finally, I came up for air and smiled at him.  "So wait a minute," I
said, as I put it all together in my mind.

   "What?"

   "So you're telling me that you came into work on Monday, trying to think
of a plan for how you could make your move on me?"

   "Right."

   "And your two hot friends suggested that if they came with you, I would
be more susceptible to your charms?"

   "Well, when you put it that way," he smiled.

   "And you thought your two hot friends would get me all in the mood to go
back to your apartment?"

   "Uh huh."

   "And then when they've gotten me all hot and bothered, they would just
slip away and you'd make your move on me?"

   "Exactly." He paused.  "You're not mad at me, are you?" He asked this
with a look on his face that made clear he did not suspect in the slightest
way that I was mad at him.  Instead, it was clear that he knew exactly what
I thought about his plan.

   So I decided to tell him what I thought, just for good measure.  While
we had been talking, we had sort of drifted a few feet apart, although our
bodies still brushed against each other.  I started to move slowly back
towards him, and as I did so, I said, "Well that's just about the hottest,
sexiest, most devilishly diabolical plan I've ever heard, John." I paused
for effect.  "I'm just sad it didn't work earlier!"

   Hearing how much I liked his plan had quite an effect on him, I guess.
As he pulled me closer and I let him take the lead in kissing me, I
remember thinking that I wanted to let him know how happy this made me, how
much I liked the way he had pursued me.  But as he kissed me and as I
realized more and more that this was finally happening, I have to admit
that there was one more thing that was bothering me.  I didn't want it to
bother me but I knew that it would come up at some point, so the sooner the
better, I guess.

   "What?" he asked, noticing the way I was looking at him.

   "Well, you said that Susan and Michelle would know to `take their
leave'?"

   "Yeah?"

   By now, I was really struggling to stop myself from thinking, "Is John
gay?  Do his friends know that?" I mean, the strange thing was that,
despite what we were doing, I didn't think of him - or me, for that matter
- as gay.  What we were doing was different.

   "So, when you were talking with them about us all having drinks
together," I asked, "They knew your friend was a guy?"

   He looked sheepish, but not really ashamed.  "Yeah." Then, I guess the
thought struck him too.  "Does it bother you that they knew?" he asked,
truly concerned.

   Hearing him ask me that question, I knew my answer immediately.  "Oh,
no, no.  It doesn't bother me," I was glad to say, "But didn't it bother
them a little?"

   "Well, we never talked about it, so if it did, they didn't mention it,"
he answered.  Then he seemed to think some more, and I got the impression
that he hadn't really thought about this until now.  But rather than
getting agitated, it seemed that he understood and was comfortable about
what Susan and Michelle knew, which calmed me.

   "It's sorta like what you were telling me at dinner about Elizabeth," he
continued, "about all the guys who came on to her."

   I didn't know where he was going with this, but I let him explain, just
as he had listened to me so patiently.

   "So you can imagine what it's like for Susan and Michelle, especially
being surrounded by guys at places like the Armaments office."

   I knew what he meant.  I remembered how I had looked at them at the bar,
and even though I knew they liked the way I looked at them there, it would
hardly be the same day in and day out at work.

   "We've been posted together a lot," he continued, "And I've helped them
put up with that shit.  It's not all bad, don't get me wrong.  They've
certainly done their fair share of flirting, too, and I guess they've got
their own catch-22s to worry about, just like you and me.  We joke about it
and tease each other all the time, just to take our minds off of how being
posted like this can start to suck after a while."

   I smiled sympathetically, to encourage him to go on.  I was enjoying
listening to him talk, even though it was a heavy topic.  It was reassuring
to me that he thought about things like this, and I liked that he was
sympathetic to his friends.

   "Like I said, they knew from how I was talking about you Friday that
this was different from all that, which made it exciting for them, I think.
Just the difference, you know?  Meeting an old friend, and all.  I'm sure
they've always had something like that in the back of their minds, so when
they saw it happening to me, they wanted to help out.  I don't think they
really thought it through, or really cared about the details.  It was fun
for them."

   I thought for a moment about what he said, and I felt even worse about
how I had screwed up our evening with them.

   John could tell what I was thinking, because he said, softly.  "Hey man,
don't feel bad about it.  Michelle was being honest with you, she wasn't
mad.  And like I said, they both encouraged me to call you.  It's like they
wanted this to happen."

   I couldn't have imagined that John could have known what I wanted any
better, but it turned out that he could.  The way he explained all this,
the way he talked to Susan and Michelle about me, really had an effect.

   "Oh, John," was all I could say, as I buried both my hands in his curls,
pulled his face to mine, and then thrust my tongue as far into his mouth as
I possibly could.  John helpfully grabbed my ass firmly with both hands to
support me as I wrapped my legs around his waist and then ground my cock
against his incredibly firm abs.

   Everything now seemed to become way more intense.  Until that point, I
think we each had been a little tentative, as if we were each scoping the
other out.

   But after what John said about wanting to be with me ever since we spoke
the week before, and his story of trying to find a way to seduce me, I
think I basically abandoned all my doubts and inhibitions, and gave myself
over to the pure physical pleasure of being with him.  I didn't, at the
time, give any more thought to Susan and Michelle.  Rather, what I thought
about at the time was that John wanted to be with me, and I had become so
infatuated with him by this point that there was nothing I could do but
give in to him.  All of my earlier uncertainties about whether I actually
wanted to be with him, or whether I really wanted to watch him fuck some
woman (take your pick of the women I'd imagined him with recently), flew
out the same open window that let in the warm breeze that evening.

   The other "deep thought" that flew out that window was whether the fact
that I was now actually making out with him meant that I was gay, or
bisexual, or whatever.  By this time, I had fantasized about John so much
that it all just seemed, well it seemed like pure sex - pure and simple
sex. I was expressing a pure physical desire that really, at that point
especially, being in the pool with him like that, had no rhyme or reason.

   In the same way, I also gave only a second's thought to whether there
were any limits to what we would do, to what I would allow him to do with
me, and to me.  Maybe I would have been satisfied to do nothing more than
to make out in the pool with him.  But I definitely felt, as we kissed in
the pool, that at some point I wanted to try to suck his cock, and I wanted
him to fuck me, in both cases if he wanted the same.  I didn't plan to
insist on either, but I would take my opportunity if it - arose, for lack
of a better word.  One thing I was sure of was that I would let him take
the lead and set the boundaries.  This would be his night.

   As for John, I don't know what he was thinking, but I could guess by his
actions.  (We went back to not saying much to each other.) He became more
assertive with me, physically, which I enjoyed very much.  For example,
after I wrapped my legs around his midsection, I remember he took a hold of
my hips and pulled me down slightly, so that my cock was again pressed up
against his.  I could feel him getting very hard again, and now that I was
pressed tightly right up against him, I started to wonder how big he really
was; he certainly felt very large to me, as I felt his cock throbbing and
pulsing against mine.

   As we continued to make out, he would reposition my body so that I was
always just how he wanted me to be.  I was overjoyed to let him do that. 
Not only did it allow me to begin to get a sense for his rhythm, how he
liked to move and how he wanted me to move, but it also allowed me to "turn
off my mind, relax and float downstream," just like the Beatles song says.
Although I was more excited, physically, than I could remember ever being,
I was also very relaxed.

   One of the best positions I remember was when he settled his knees on
the floor of the pool, and leaned his butt back against the edge of the
underwater bench.  This brought the water to the top of his pecs.  He
settled my crotch against his, and I wrapped my legs around his waist,
resting them on the bench behind him, so it was as if I was sitting
cross-legged, with him between my thighs.  With the water supporting me, I
could lean back almost horizontally, with my hands holding onto his biceps
and his hands on mine.  I remember looking at his face, illuminated by the
glow of the refracted underwater lights, watching his expression of pure
pleasure as we slowly ground our cocks together.

   Until this point, we had both left our swimsuits on, since they
presented no obstacle to our enjoyment of our bodies.  As for myself, I
actually enjoyed the extra level of teasing and titillation they provided.
But at some point I do remember John sort of pulling my suit down a bit,
and saying something like, "Why don't you take this off?"

   "Don't you like it?" I responded coquettishly.

   "I think I'd like you better in that little green bikini."

   I hadn't expected him to say that.  When he did, I remembered back to
seeing it on the top of my drawer after he had changed.

   "Oh you saw that, did you?" I answered.  "Well, you have good taste!  I
got that when I lived in Europe.  Let's just say it has `minimal coverage,'
so I only wear it when I'm alone."

   "Make an exception for me."

   I liked the way he said what he wanted.

   "Ok," I said, giving him a kiss and moving to get out of the pool. 
Although I was reluctant to leave him, I was eager to wear anything he
asked me to wear, and I was excited that he had noticed my bikini and
wanted to see me in it.  I just sort of hopped across the room and turned
to look at him quickly before going to the bathroom to change.  His smile
provided even more encouragement.

   In the bathroom, I quickly stripped out of the black squarecut and
pulled my tiny green bikini out of the drawer.  I stopped to look at myself
in the mirror for just a second and was blown away by the wild-eyed man who
looked back at me.  I don't remember ever seeing myself so excited.  I was
so eager that I stumbled to lift my feet into the bikini, and had to force
myself to slow down, for fear of falling over and cracking my head on the
tile floor.  It took a little "rearranging" to squeeze my erection into the
suit, but I did the best I could.  Looking in the mirror one last time, I
ran my fingers through my hair, but I was beyond primping.  (If you've seen
the cover of my story, it might help you to imagine this scene to know that
I'm wearing that tiny green bikini in that picture, and I'm standing in my
Endless Pool.)

   I stepped back through the doorway to the guest bedroom, and looked
across the room at John in the pool.  He had crossed his arms on the edge
of the pool and rested his head on his forearms.  Looking at me, he gave a
whistle, which despite being very corny, really boosted my ego.

   "You like?" I asked, as I struck a little pose in the doorway

   "Mmm, hmm," he grunted.  "Turn around."

   Happy to comply, I turned around, arched my back slightly, and raised my
butt just a bit as I gripped each side of the doorway.  I looked over my
shoulder and asked, "Is this view even better?"

   "Just perfect," he said.  "You have the tightest little ass, Mark."

   "Oh really?" I asked, as I turned slightly and reached down to grip my
left ankle with both hands.  "Do you like my ass, John?"

   "Get over here, you little tease," he said.  And once again I had no
problem doing exactly as I was told.

   I walked toward him, trying to put one foot directly in front of the
other, which pushed my cock back and forth in a strange but very exciting
way.  I stopped about six inches away from him, my crotch directly in front
of his face.

   "Let me see that ass again."

   Without saying anything, I turned around, and soon felt his right hand
caress my ass.  He settled his thumb in between my cheeks, and played his
fingers out and into the indentation on the side of my butt.  I couldn't
help sighing as I involuntarily flexed my muscle in response to his touch.

   As he slipped his pinkie under the bottom seam of the suit, I said,
"This is my absolute favorite swimsuit of all time.  None fit me more
perfectly."

   "I'll say," he said.  "This is amazing."

   He brought his other hand to my other cheek, so now both thumbs were
pressing into my crack, coming teasingly close to my hole, while his palms
pressed my cheeks together.

   "Bend over," he said.  This was even more pleasurable than his earlier
commands.  When my torso was about horizontal, he added, "All the way."

   As I strained to fold myself as far as I could, I was rewarded by the
touch of his lips at the bottom of my left cheek, as he explored the bottom
seam of my suit with his teeth and tongue.

   "Oh, yes, John, please," I sighed, as he lapped his tongue back and
forth where my suit ended and my bare ass began.  At the same time, he
continued to press and wiggle his thumbs up into my crack.  "Now who's the
tease?" I thought to myself.

   Wanting more, I sort of pressed myself back against him, and he
responded by gripping my ass more firmly and working his fingers around to
the front of my hips and pulling me back.  At the same time, he opened his
mouth wider and started gnawing and almost biting my cheek.  I was in
heaven!

   I was also in rather an awkward position, since I was bent all the way
over to grip my ankles, and the backs of my legs were pressed against the
side of the pool, which rises about 18 inches above the floor.  Also, the
floor was wet from my getting out of the pool and our earlier splashing
about.  What all of this meant was that I lost my balance, my feet slipped
from beneath me, and I fell backward into the pool.

   Now, normally, it would be a very bad idea to fall into the pool, which
is only about three feet deep.  But fortunately (on so many levels!) John
was directly behind me and I basically fell against his chest.  Also
fortunately (again, on many levels), it turns out that John is rather
agile, and he caught me easily.  So after a big splash and some tumbling
about, I ended up basically cradled in his arms.  My feet were still on the
top of the edge of the pool, but he had one arm under my thighs and the
other supported my back.  My butt had settled down against his thighs and I
could feel his very hard cock pressed against my hip.

   After the initial shock of tumbling into the water, I laughed and
reached up to put my arms around John's shoulders.  "You got me," I said.

   He looked at me for a moment, smiling, and then said, simply, "That's
right, I've got you." And then he leaned forward for a very long, deep and
passionate kiss.

   As our kiss continued, I shifted to caress his neck and shoulders, and
he flexed his arms to raise me up and pull me close to him.  I pulled my
feet off the side of the pool and into the water as I sort of curled over
to press against him.  The hand of the arm he had under my thighs reached
over to play with my ass, still clad in my tiny bikini, as his other hand
ran across my back.  It felt wonderful, warm, and tender all at the same
time.

   I was so ready for him.  He really was a great kisser!

   As I floated in the pool, cradled in John's arms, curled over to press
myself against him as his hand gently explored my ass, it won't surprise
you to know I was in heaven.  What I was thinking may not surprise you
either, but looking back on it, I guess I am a little surprised at the
thought that occurred to me at this moment.  It was, "I'm really starting
to like this guy!"

   I mean, not just lust, not just admiration of his incredible body, not
just physical desire, but to like him.  Or, dare I say it, have feelings
for him.

   Ok, I said it.

   As I floated there, kissing him, feeling his arms and hands all over my
body, the thoughts that swam through my head were not just physical, but
also the memory of his smile at dinner, and the way he looked at me when we
first talked, and the flirty emails we shared, and our phone conversations.
I really liked him.  A lot.

   At that moment, I remember, I finally just let go.  I finally stopped
second-guessing myself.  Whatever would happen, would happen, and I'd think
about the consequences tomorrow.  As I said before, this was his night, and
it was my night to surrender to desires that I felt welling up inside of me
in a way that I had imagined and fantasized about many times, but had never
truly given in to before.

   I don't know if I gave him some signal, or if he could read my mind, or
if it was just coincidence, but at that moment, he whispered in my ear, "I
wanna see that ass again."

   My only response was an affectionate, affirmative murmur, and I let my
body go limp.

   In the water, it was easy enough for him to turn me over and push me
toward the side of the pool.  As he moved behind me, I felt him guide my
knees up on the bench in the pool, and I naturally rested my elbows on the
wood beam that forms the top of the side of the pool.  I twisted my head
around to glance at him for a moment, before closing my eyes and resting my
head on the top of my arm.

   "You have such a hot ass, Mark," he said, almost as if he were talking
to himself.  "Just like I remember from high school.  Just so fucking tight
... hard."

   As he said this, his hands were moving all over my ass, the tops of my
thighs, my lower back and my hips, as if he wanted to form a complete,
three dimensional, mental picture of my ass.  As if he wanted to understand
exactly how I was put together.  And maybe, I thought, he wanted the same
thing that I had wanted when I first checked him out in the restaurant - he
wanted to be sure that my ass was just as incredible as he remembered from
before.  And I guessed from his reaction that he was reassured of that.

   In this position, the water came to just below the tops of my thighs,
and I'm sure my tiny green bikini encased and presented my ass perfectly.
John's face was only inches away, and the only light in the room came from
the underwater lights and was refracted to dance across my ass.

   Soon enough, of course, John's hands were joined by his lips and tongue,
as he explored my ass with his mouth as well, covering me in kisses.  And
it wasn't long before I felt each of his hands grip the waistband of my
bikini and slowly start to pull it down.  Looking to my left, I could just
barely see his reflection in the windows of the room, as he brought his
head back to watch as my bikini slowly slipped down over my ass - he pulled
the fabric tight so I could feel it teasingly slide over my cheeks.  He
stopped when the waistband was just at the bottom of my cheeks and gripped
my hips with his hands to hold me in place as his lips and tongue returned
to my ass.  My sighs and moans of pleasure intensified and I arched my back
to raise my ass for him.  I wanted to be sure he knew that I greatly
enjoyed what he was doing and I wanted more.  Whenever he brought his lips
near my hole, I'd stay very still, hoping he would continue toward that
destination, but whether he was reluctant or just wanted to tease me, he
didn't satisfy my desire.

   Eventually, he slowly pulled my bikini down my thighs and then reached
under water to pull it off my legs.  I saw out of the corner of my eye that
he let it float in the pool; for some reason I thought that was very sexy.
I closed my eyes again and rested my head on my arms, signaling that he
should continue for so long as he wished.

   John brought his hands back to my cheeks, and now kneaded them together
more intensely, working his thumbs into my crack.  My little cries of "ah
... oh," must have told him how much I enjoyed this.  I confess that the
way he was working my ass was really working up my desire that he would
fuck me, but I guess that my other desire for him to take the lead and go
at his own pace took precedence.  I didn't say anything.  I didn't express
the thought that was paramount in my mind - "Oh John, please fuck me." I
thought back to the way he had whipped out his cock for that girl in his
car, and I sure hoped that would happen soon.

   But for whatever reason, whatever he was thinking, whether it was
reluctance or something else, that didn't happen.  At some point (I still
wasn't keeping track of the time!) it seemed that he had just had his fill,
and John pulled me back into the water and twisted me around to face him,
guiding my legs to wrap around his hips as we had been before.  Since I was
now completely naked, my erect cock was free to press up against him, but I
almost had the sense that he was a little shy.  He hadn't lifted me out of
the water to look at my cock, and he hadn't grabbed at me, although from
the way his hands gripped my ass and pressed me against him, it was clear
he wanted me to thrust up against him - and it was clear he enjoyed that!

   I wonder if he knew that it wasn't a good idea for me to come just yet.
Maybe, like me, he knew that an orgasm would be the end of something we
were really enjoying - and I certainly didn't want this to end.

   He also didn't make any move to take off his own swimsuit, and I found
myself becoming more and more curious about the very hard cock I felt
pressed against me.  Looking back on it now, I wonder if he liked the
teasing feel of the swimsuit, or if he wanted to tease me, or maybe, like
me, he just wanted to prolong our encounter as long as he could.  Anyway,
for whatever the reason, we continued as we had before, and I'll confess
also that I enjoyed feeling rather slutty, being naked for him while he
kept his suit on.

   Eventually, though, I felt one desire that was so strong I could not
leave it unexpressed.  I guess I rationalized that it was really just a
suggestion, so I wasn't taking the lead, but I just had to ask him, as I
guided his lips down to my neck, "John, I'm dying to see you squeezed into
my tiny green bikini.  You would just look so sexy, I have just got to
see."

   I guess I asked nicely, because he pulled his head back and looked at me
with a twinkle in his eye.  "Really?"

   "Yes, really," I said sincerely.  "I'm starting to think how cool it is
that we're about the same size here," I continued, as I moved my hands down
to wrap around his hips.  It was the most delicious coincidence, as I
started to anticipate seeing his gorgeous body in all my favorite
underwear.

   "Ok, if you insist," he said, teasingly.

   I pulled myself back from him, since I thought he would just reach over
and grab my bikini (it was still floating in the pool) and change right
there, but instead he moved to get out of the pool after grabbing it.

   "Awww," I said in disappointment as he stepped out of the pool, but I
was rewarded with a perfect view of his amazing butt.

   "Awww," I said again, with more emphasis, when instead of changing right
there, he went through the doorway into the guest bedroom and stepped
around the corner, just out of my view.

   I rested my chin on my arms on the side of the pool, as he had before,
and let myself float there, naked.  I could hear him rustle around as he
changed his suit.  It was taking him a bit longer than I had anticipated.

   Finally, he said, "Uh, I don't think this is gonna work."

   That's odd, I thought.  "Huh?" I said, raising my head up inquisitively.

   "Well, look," he said, walking out from around the corner.

   I'm sure my eyes must have widened in amazement as I felt my jaw drop
open.

   I immediately saw what the "problem" was - there was no way that John
could fit his erect cock in that bikini!  In fact, it was all the front
pouch could do to wrap around his balls and press his cock against his
body. I mean, he was huge!  His cock extended all the way over to the
outside edge of his hips, so it was left almost completely uncovered.  And
it was beautiful!

   "Oh my God, John, your cock is amazing!" I gasped.

   * * *

   He said nothing as he walked slowly toward me.  I was unable to draw my
eyes away from his cock, as it slid side to side as he walked.  His cock
was truly beautiful.  Very straight and thick and adorned with veins that
throbbed with his pulse.  Seriously, at that time I had been looking at a
lot of cocks in online porn, and John's was as gorgeous as any other I had
ever seen.  It truly was a match for his amazing body.

   By the time John had reached the side of the pool, his cock had worked
its way free of my tiny green bikini and stood straight out from his body.
So I can guess he stood about a foot away from me, since the end of his
cock was about three inches away from my face.  I just floated in the pool,
speechless, unable to draw my eyes away from it.

   Finally, without thinking, I felt my hand reach up toward him, but I
stopped myself just in time.  I remembered my earlier resolution about who
was in charge.

   "Can I?" I paused, then I asked.  "Can I touch it?"

   "Sure," he said.  I could hear the smile in his voice.

   I gave him a smile of thanks and then returned my attention to his cock.
By this time, I was kneeling on the stainless steel bench in the pool,
which is just a few inches below the level of the floor outside the pool,
where John was standing.  I could comfortably rest my elbows on the cedar
wood plank that forms the coping around the top of the pool, and reach my
hands up toward him.  My left hand gripped his hip to hold him in place,
while I slowly slid my right hand over from his divot and across his sexy
abs to grip the base of his cock.

   I squeezed slightly and slowly pulled my hand towards me, with my
fingers around the top of his cock and my thumb leading the way, sliding
along the bottom.  I know that the center of the underside of his cock is
the most sensitive, so I sort of wiggled and pressed my thumb there to
stimulate him as I made my way up his cock.  I stopped when my thumb
reached the little cleft at the base of the tip (he was circumcised), which
I know to be the center of his pleasure, and wiggled my thumb.  I looked up
to see his reaction, and saw him close his eyes, sigh and lean his head
back and to the side.  I knew well the effect this was having on him.

   I guess I can't really be sure of that, however.  I mean, I know how
good this feels when I do the same thing to my own cock, but I couldn't
imagine how much incredibly better it felt for John, to be standing there
next to the pool, with me kneeling naked before him and massaging his cock.
I could only hope that the effect of my attention was all the more intense.
From the throbbing of his cock in my hand, it seemed as if it was.

   After a moment, I released the pressure and slid my hand back only a few
inches, before squeezing again and bringing it to the tip.  I did this a
few times - pressing at the tip, retreating slightly, squeezing and then
sliding forward to press again, in a very slow rhythm, just to get a sense
of how this would affect him and what he most liked.  By now, as a result
of what I was doing to him, I judged that his cock was fully erect.

   I wanted to get a sense of just how big John was, so I slowly eased his
cock over to the side and pressed it with the heel of my hand against his
hip bone, which was at about the center or his cock.  That is, his cock
extended past his hip bone all the way over to the outside of his hip.  By
comparison, I know my own cock will not quite reach over to my hip bone, so
I judged that he was about a palm's width longer than me.

   I continued gently playing with him, pressing his cock up against his
hip bone and sort of rolling it a bit back and forth.  He was nice and
thick, but not too thick.  I would say I could almost get my thumb and
middle finger around him at the thickest point, so he was just a bit
thicker than me.  Like I said, his cock was very beautiful overall -
straight and smooth-skinned - and I haven't mentioned yet that I could tell
he shaved some of his hair down there, so that he had only a small patch of
dark curly hair around the base of his cock.  Even though I don't think he
shaved them, his balls were just lightly hairy, and very tempting to touch
as well.  As I played with him, I would occasionally reach down to roll
them around or press them a bit, but I kept my attention focused mainly on
his cock.

   I glanced up at his face and saw that he was watching me, with a gentle
smile.  He could see how much I was enjoying my new toy, and there was no
need for us to say anything.  I do remember that at one point I said, "You
must really enjoy jerking off, with a monster like this to play with," and
he quietly laughed and watched as I continued to play with him.

   I pulled his cock straight again and started the same rhythm as I had
before, but now running my hand all the way down to the base and then all
the way up until the heel of my palm was pressed against the tip.  I didn't
go too fast, because I wasn't trying to stimulate him, but rather just
allow us both to enjoy the sensation of my hand working slowly up and down
his cock.  Still, my attention did cause some pre-cum to appear at the tip,
which I was happy to capture with my palm and work over his cock to
lubricate him.

   When I sensed that he was getting too worked up, I stopped, brought my
hand back to the base, and pressed him up against his lower abs.  In this
position, I could appreciate the full length of his cock, as I saw that it
reached up almost to his belly button.  With my face only inches away, I
couldn't stop my lips from parting and my tongue from starting to flick out
of my mouth.  Almost instinctively, I was about to lean forward to service
him with my mouth, when I remembered my manners.

   "Can I?"

   "Can you what?"

   "Can I lick it?"

   "Lick what?"

   "Your cock, John, can I lick your beautiful cock?"

   "Sure."

   Now that I had the proper permission, I slowly parted my lips and
brought them closer to him - to his cock.  I remember the rush of thoughts
that went through my head.  I'd been looking forward to this moment for
longer than I could remember, and I wanted it to be just right.  I couldn't
help but think at that moment - to admit to myself, would really be the
right thing to say - that I was really and truly in love with his cock.  I
don't know exactly why I had that feeling or where it was coming from, but
I definitely felt that way.

   Still holding his cock pressed up against his abs, I slowly brought my
lips to him, and then gave him just a simple, but reverential, kiss, right
at the tip of his cock.  Rather than a kiss, really, it was like I just
pressed my lips against him, like the people kissing the ring in The
Godfather.  I guess that would be a strange way to describe it.  After that
first simple kiss, I gave another, more passionate kiss, this time wrapping
my lips around his cock.  And then a third kiss, now daring to let my
tongue slip out and press against him.  My kisses then evolved into a
full-on caress, as I let my tongue out to run around the bottom of the tip
of his cock, starting at the point I know to be the most sensitive.  As
before, when I had done the same with my thumb, he just sighed.

   I twisted my head a bit to glance up at him, and I saw his eyes were
closed.  But at the same time he moved his hands into my hair, which I took
as encouragement.  I was also encouraged by the pulsing of his cock, which
felt somehow even more special against my tongue than it had against my
hand, and by the little bit of pre-cum that oozed out, giving me my first
ever taste of cum.  I was surprised that it didn't really have much taste,
and it certainly was not distasteful, so I tried to let a little gather on
my tongue before slowly sliding down the length of him.

   When I reached the base of his cock, I opened my mouth further and
pressed forward, to wrap my lips around each side of him before giving him
a squeeze and wiggling my tongue at the base.  I could tell he liked that,
so I lingered just a second there before moving down further to take one of
his balls in my mouth, and then moving to the other.  I steadied my right
hand against his hip bone, while my left hand found its way around to his
ass and pulled him closer to me.  By now, his legs were pressed forward
against the outside of the pool and he had thrust his hips, to bring his
cock as close to me as possible.

   When I was ready to move back up his cock, I pulled it back down gently
until it was straight out from his body, and I twisted my neck to the side
so I was now looking straight up and his cock was basically sliding in my
mouth.  He had opened his eyes and looked down at me, so our eyes locked. I
will never forget the intense look of pleasure, amazement and appreciation
that I saw on his face.  I kept my eyes fixed on his when I reached the
tip, and just wiggled my tongue there while squeezing him with my lips.

   Then I lifted my head so I was looking at his cock again, and worked my
way back to the base, now with my head at the side of his cock and running
my tongue along the other side.  When I reversed myself and brought my
mouth back to the tip of his cock, the temptation to take him fully into my
mouth became overwhelming, but again I remembered my manners.

   "Can I?"

   "Can you what?"

   "Can I suck it?"

   "Suck what?"

   "Your cock, John, can I suck your enormous cock?"

   "What do you say?"

   I looked up to see him smiling down at me.  I guess he wanted to work
this for as much as he could get, and I was glad to oblige.  I leaned
forward and ran my tongue slowly along the full length of the underside of
his cock, keeping my eyes on his the whole time.  When I reached the tip, I
let my tongue linger before pulling back, smiling at him, and saying one
word - "Please."

   I guess that truly is the magic word!  "Ok," he said, as he reached down
to cup my chin in his palm and guide my mouth back to the tip of his cock.
"Do your best."

   And that's just what I did.

   I returned my gaze to his cock and paused for just a second.  I was so
ready for this, but I also wanted to appreciate this moment.  His hands
were resting on my shoulders, but somehow he knew to bring one hand up to
the back of my head.  He didn't need to press there, but I guess he sensed
what I was feeling and he wanted to encourage me while at the same time
share this moment with me.  In the same way that I had done when he had
first kissed me, I felt my lips part and my eyes close, almost as if some
other power was taking over my body.  As I slowly moved forward, I felt his
fingers moving through my hair and he gently squeezed the back of my head
to guide me to just the right spot.

   I had already become intimately familiar with his cock, so I didn't need
to open my eyes when I first felt the tip pass between my lips.  At this
point, I had no intention of trying to take him all the way into my mouth;
rather, I just inched forward until my lips were firmly around the tip and
I could once again rub my tongue back and forth in that magical cleft at
the tip of his cock.  The pulsing of his cock now seemed to transmit itself
to my lips and then through my entire body, as I tried to attune myself to
that rhythm and match it with the squeezing of my lips.  This brought out
more pre-cum - more than before - which I purposefully tried not to swallow
but rather to use to bathe and lubricate his cock.  I moved forward just a
bit more, until I would say I had about 3 inches of him in my mouth.  I
moved my hands to grip his hips, reaching out with my fingers to dig
slightly into his cheeks and hold him close to me.  Both his hands now were
playing with my hair, but it was impossible for me to look up to see
whether his eyes were open or looking at me.  The only sounds he made were
sighs and small grunts of pleasure.

   After a minute or so, I pulled off him and opened my eyes to look at his
cock again.  It seemed that it had grown even larger and turned a reddish
color.  I was proud of the effect I was having on him.  I brought my right
hand to grip the base of his cock, and then twisted my head to run my
tongue up and down the length of him again, while taking a quick glance up
at him.  I saw his eyes were closed and his head was leaning slightly back
and to the side.  I could only hope he was in heaven as I brought my mouth
back to the tip and swallowed him again.

   This time I made an effort to bring him as far into my mouth as I
possibly could, and was rewarded with a deep sigh and the feeling of his
hands gripping my head and holding me in place.  I responded by not only
rubbing my tongue against him, but also sucking as hard as I could, feeling
my cheeks hollow as I did so.  He seemed to quite enjoy this, so I
continued as long as I could, and when I did have to pull back to catch my
breath, I tried to recover as quickly as I could and then pull him even
further into my mouth.  Now I could feel his cock pressing against the back
of my mouth, so I judged I had at least 4 or 5 inches of him.  This did
make me gag, so I pulled back to catch my breath, but now I had become
obsessed with a new challenge.

   I felt his hand relax in my hair as I steadied myself.  I let my
breathing calm, then I took a firm grip of the base of his cock with my
right hand and dug my left hand into his hip before opening my mouth as
wide as I could.  It was almost as if I was going to bite him as I lunged
forward and tried to swallow him up as much as possible.  I sort of twisted
my head to the right and stretched my neck out as I sucked him into his
mouth.  I felt the tip of his cock against the back of my mouth, but the
stretching and twisting of my neck seemed to suppress the gag reflex
somewhat.  I took a deep breath so that as I closed my lips around him I
sucked on him strongly, and then started to move my tongue back and forth
over the base and side of his cock.  My reward for all of this was a cry of
"Oh, man," from John as he involuntarily reached down to my jaw with both
hands and pulled my head towards him, forcing his cock further into me.  At
the limit, I think I may have had 6 or 7 inches of him in my mouth, as I
thought I could feel his hair brushing against the tip of my nose.  But
after only 15 seconds or so, there was sort of a gurgling from my throat,
John relaxed his grip, and I had to pull off of him.

   I had been straining forward, with my head and shoulders pressed past
the outside of the pool and John standing straight up as he pulled me
toward him.  As we each relaxed, I settled back and put my weight on my
knees, instead of my arms, and looked up at him.  He had a look on his face
that I could only describe as amazed.  Somehow, I thought that this was not
the first time that someone had done this for him, but they had rarely, if
ever, done it with such intensity and desire.

   I definitely wanted to continue, but I thought that if I was really
going to give him the attention he deserved, we'd have to get in a more
comfortable position.  As he relaxed, he had returned his hands to my
shoulders, and seemed to be waiting for me to catch my breath.  I looked up
at him and tried to give him my most alluring, seductive look, as I reached
up across my body to take his right hand in mine.  As I moved back to stand
in the pool, I just gave him a little tug to let him know, without words,
that I wanted him to come towards me.

   When he responded to my direction by stepping over the side of the pool
to stand on the steel bench inside, I felt a powerful sensation.  I
wouldn't describe it as control, exactly, because he was still most
definitely in charge of this encounter, but he had somehow put himself into
my hands.  Upon thinking this, I instantly understood what I was feeling.
It was as if he was my client - my "John," as it were - and I was a
prostitute.  I didn't feel at all demeaned by this; instead, I found it
very exciting.  As if John had turned himself over to me for my
professional care, attention and service to his cock.

   This feeling gave me a new encouragement, a new pride in my work, and so
I refocused on making him as comfortable as I could.  I remained standing
on the bottom of the pool, with the water about up to my hips, while John
towered above me, standing on the bench with the water to his shins. 
Letting go of his hand, I brought my hands to his hips, and guided him to
my left, over to the end of the pool away from the motor.

   As he turned to walk there, I got a very good look for the first time at
how my tiny green bikini looked, stretched over his ass.  Since this bikini
fit my ass just about perfectly, it was just a little small on his rounder,
more muscled butt.  But the way the bottom seam pressed into his cheeks,
and the way the suit rode up in between them, was incredibly flattering to
his ass, and I don't think it was uncomfortable in the slightest.  Instead,
I hope he felt the stimulation there was as exciting for him as it was for
me when I wore that bikini.  I lingered for just a moment, and leaned back
to take a good look at the muscles of his back running down to his slim
hips and delicious ass squeezed into my tiny green bikini.  The view was
far more than incredible!

   As he walked around the edge of the pool, I kept both hands on his hips
(well, actually, my left hand on his hip and my right hand on his ass) to
guide him exactly where I wanted him.  I settled him down right at the
center of the end of the pool, which I know to be a very comfortable place
to sit.  From there, he could see the length of the pool before him, and,
of course, my smiling face looking up at him.  By now, it was completely
dark outside and the only light came from the underwater pool lights.

   He settled his buns at the edge of the pool just as he had when I first
walked out from changing into my swimsuit and saw him sitting seductively
by the pool.  That is, he stretched one leg out (which he could now let
float in the water) while he bent his other leg at the knee to rest his
foot on the bench inside the pool.  As he spread his legs open, he
naturally thrust his crotch forward; but now, instead of being covered
teasingly by his swimsuit, his cock was rock hard and standing straight up
into the air.  Also as before, he reached down to grip the side of the pool
with both hands, which flexed the muscles in his arms as he leaned
backwards slightly.  This presented his delicious abs as a fitting backdrop
to his cock.

   His smiling face was the cherry on top of this delicious, delectable,
mouth-watering sundae (or should I say, banana split?  sorry!).  Keeping my
eyes locked on his, I settled on my knees on the bench, with his cock now
at a comfortable chest height in front of me.  Turning my attention to my
work - my client - I rested my arms on the tops of his thighs as I again
gripped the base of his cock with my right hand and reached around to the
small of his back with my left.  Now in this new position, I started the
process all over again, first running my hand up and down his cock, then
moving it side to side and then pressing against him with my tongue.

   He didn't seem to mind the repetition at all.  When I glanced up at him,
I saw him continue to smile back at me, as he moved his hands to play
gently with my hair.  Soon enough, though (and not having to ask this time;
I felt I already had permission), I brought my tongue to his cock and was
comforted by the taste of the pre-cum that by now had coated its entire
length.  This taste seemed to urge me on somehow ("Am I becoming addicted?"
I thought to myself, with an inward smile) and I quickly opened my mouth to
welcome his tip again.

   This time, I proceeded with a little more vigor, a little more urgency.
First, I brought about 3 inches or so of his cock into my mouth and sucked
hard while swirling my tongue around the tip.  Sort of like licking an ice
cream cone - a really hot, hard, pulsing ice cream cone, that is.  When I
felt his hands grip my head tightly and his breathing and pulse quicken, I
pulled back and turned to look up at him.  This time, not to see his
reaction, or to ask his permission, but rather as if to tell him, "Did you
like that?  Well get ready for this."

   Then I sort of took a breath, squared my shoulders, and really went to
work.  Gripping the base of his cock tightly, I dropped my head, opened my
mouth wide and lunged forward at his cock again, trying to take as much of
it as I could as quickly as I could, hoping that the speed alone would help
to suppress my gag reflex.  As I felt the tip of his cock hit the back of
my mouth, I sealed my lips and sucked in quickly, breathing in through my
nose and trying to flex my throat muscles by sort of swallowing.  This
seemed to work pretty well, as this time I definitely felt his hair
tickling at my nose.  I tried to concentrate on keeping my lips tight so as
to not slip back off of him, and then I sucked in again as hard as I could,
feeling my cheeks hollow out as I heard him gasp.  Even with the force of
my head pressing against his crotch, he couldn't help but thrust his hips
forward, and I tried to stay with him as best I could.  His hands clamped
on my head helped me to remain steady, sucking on him for a good 15-20
seconds until I had to pull back and let him out of my mouth.

   Again, I settled my weight back on my knees and looked up at him.  I
cannot say for sure what he was thinking of course, but I have to guess
that he was thinking he never expected that I would be doing this for him,
at least not in this way.  That was the thought that encouraged me, that
drove me to try to swallow him and suck on him in the most extreme way
possible.  I realized that I didn't want to please him so much as surprise
him, to amaze him with my intense desire to suck his cock as hard and as
deeply as I could.  This desire, which I'm sure I would have felt anyway,
seemed to be only intensified by the size of his cock, which I guess I took
as a challenge.

   Anyway, these thoughts just swirled around my head for a second or two
before I squared my shoulders and bent my head to plunge down on his cock
again.  As before, I succeeded in bringing about two-thirds of his monster
cock into my mouth and sucking on him intensely for about 20 seconds or so.
And again, I pulled back for a moment of rest before doing it all again. 
When I pulled back after a few more cycles of this, John moved his hand
from the back of my head to underneath my chin, and lifted it to bring my
eyes to his.  I could see that I had done enough for him; I had satisfied
my client, so I went back to just licking his cock, playing with it, and
occasionally sucking the tip into my mouth gently.

   But as I continued, I could feel him getting more and more excited.  In
a way, this gentle, continuous attention to his cock seemed to be even more
stimulating than the intense sucking I had provided before.  I suspect that
my delighted expression as I played with his cock was just as arousing for
him as the direct stimulation I provided.  In any case, about ten minutes
after I had invited him to sit at the end of the pool, he took my face in
his hands and looked at me again.

   This time, he finally spoke, expressing his first coherent words since
he had granted me permission to suck his cock.  "That's enough, Mark," he
said.  "That was amazing."

   I looked up and smiled at him, not releasing my grip on his cock.  I
said nothing, but rather continued to stroke him slowly.  The throbbing of
his member in my hand had become quite comforting.

   He realized he had to convince me.  "Really," he said, gently pleading.
"Stop.  I don't want to come yet."

   This acknowledgement of reality brought me back to earth.  I understood
what he meant, as I released his cock and let my body go limp, finally
allowing myself to feel the slightest bit of fatigue.

   But thankfully, John was not tired - not at all.  Instead, he moved his
hands under my arms and lifted me up toward him.  Assisted by the buoyancy
of the water, he was able to easily lift my shoulders to the same level as
his, and then I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and laid my weight on
him, as he leaned back slightly.

   As I looked back on this moment later, I've thought that it must have
looked incredibly sexy.  My naked ass (and the rest of my body) was fully
exposed, the only light in the room came from the underwater lights, and I
was leaning against a gorgeous, warm, comforting body.  Not only was there
a body, but also a pair of very tempting lips, which promptly attracted a
long and deep kiss from me.  As we kissed, I lay on top of John, my cock
pressed against his, and his hands reached down to cup and then grab my ass
and pull me even tighter against him.  Instinctively, I opened my legs
slightly to wrap around him and allow him to pull me even closer, as my
hands ran through his curls.

   I don't know how long we continued like that, but eventually he
disentangled his lips from mine just long enough to whisper one of the most
delightful, exciting phrases I had ever heard.

   "Let's go to bed, Mark."

   With only an excited murmur, I pulled myself away from him and stepped
out of the pool.  He scooted over to the edge of the pull, and quickly
stepped out of my tiny green bikini.  We were each now completely nude.

   We didn't say much, if anything, as we quickly toweled each other off. I
did him first, which was another opportunity to take a really good look at
his body.  But I think I was starting to sense that the time for looking
was over and the time for doing had arrived.  When he did me, I almost had
the impression that he was preoccupied with something by the way he looked
at me closely.  I didn't ask what he was thinking.  I guess I realized that
this could be as overwhelming for him as it was for me.

   I do remember that when he finished drying me off, he just dropped the
towel and then reached over to take my hand in his.  Then, he turned toward
the bed that was only a few feet away in the guest bedroom and literally
led me there by the hand.  I found this to be incredibly sweet and, dare I
say it, romantic.  Yes, I guess I do dare.  I said it, and that's what it
was.  Romantic.

   When we got to the bed he turned to face me, put his hands on my
shoulders, and kissed me deeply before sitting on the bed.  I found it
strange to be looking down at him but I loved the look in his eye and I
loved the way he then explored my body with his eyes.  Then he reached up,
put his hand on my ass and with just the gentlest tug brought me down and
on top of him.  We quickly scooted up the bed and entwined our limbs
together and went back to kissing.

   Now as much as I enjoy reliving every last detail of this evening (and,
yes, maybe embellishing just a little), if I'm ever going to finish this
story I'll have to move the narrative along a little more quickly.  So even
though that time with John - my first time in bed with him - was one of the
most exciting times of my life, this is probably a good point to do so.  We
basically continued doing what we were doing before, except this time out
of the water.  So instead of the detailed description of exactly what we
did, I'd also like to tell you a little bit of what it was like for me. 
What it was like for me to be with a man for the very first time, that is.

   More than anything else, I think, it was all just so very different from
anything else I had ever done before.  I know, surprise, surprise.  But
what I mean is that just the fact that it was different sort of overwhelmed
everything else that was going on, especially right then at the beginning,
when we were in the pool and then in bed together.

   I have to say that, much as I thought the entire experience was
completely amazing when I was doing it, and I still think the same thing
now, I can't really say that John was some sort of fantastic lover or that
sex with a man was better than sex with a woman.  My adrenaline was pumping
and my head was reeling just with the fact that all this was actually
happening.  The simple fact was, this was my first time, and it was with a
guy I had been obsessing over for more than 25 years.  For all I know, it
was terrible, objectively speaking, but I was in no condition to be
objective.  You have to take my entire description of the experience with
that in mind.

   Not to go too far with this thought, but I guess the thing is that, like
so much else in life, I'll never know exactly why this happened or what
made it so special for me.  And I'm sure that I can't really say that the
fact I was getting it on with a guy was the best part of it.  For example,
what if the same thing had happened with someone else from my past, who
I've lost touch with and have fond memories of?  Emily is an obvious
example.  Or what if had been with someone who is mysterious and exciting
to me?  That would be Elizabeth.  Or what if it were someone young and very
fit and incredibly beautiful?  Rachel could fill that role easily.  Maybe
the same experience with any one of those women would have been a thousand
times more intense and pleasurable than my experience with John.  Maybe
I'll get the chance to find out!

   It's another way of saying that I can't separate out whether what I
enjoyed so much was making out with a man, or whether I enjoyed making out
with John.  But I'm pretty sure it was the latter.  Everything I remember
about that evening is really more about John being who he is, as opposed to
him being a man.  You know, as I thought of those three examples, I
realized that John was each of those things for me - a person out of my
past, a mysterious and exciting person, and a very fit and incredibly
beautiful (physically) person.  Maybe that's what drew me to him so
strongly.  Or maybe it really was his personality.  He just charmed the
pants off me - literally!

   But I do have to admit that, much as I was attracted to his intellect
and personality, his body and physical appearance were really a very
important element for me.  Looking back on it now, I am sure of that.  For
instance, I remember one point as we were rolling around in bed.  He was on
his back and I had straddled his hips, basically sitting on him and gently
playing with our cocks, rubbing them together between my hands.  I just
looked down at him, at his incredible torso, and blurted out, "My God,
John, you really are built!"

   I mean he really was a very good looking guy, and I was really turned on
by his body.  To get back to what we were doing, I was just enjoying the
sensation of caressing and wrapping my limbs around an incredibly toned and
muscular body.  His firmness and strength were completely unlike anything I
had experienced before.  Like I said, it was just so different, so a simple
action like rolling over on my back and pulling him on top of me and
running my hands over his back was thrilling for me.  It seems obvious when
I say it now, but the point is we really didn't have to be doing some wild
sex act for this to be amazing for me.  Just to be in bed with him, just
the way it felt for our thighs to be wrapped together, just to run my hand
along his bicep or to brush the back of my hand against his abs - each of
those simple actions was a thrill because he had such a wonderful body.

   Our age probably played a role in this, too.  I'm sure that if we had
actually made out in high school, rather than just looking at each other,
it would have been completely different.  I doubt that we would have taken
our time or have been as entranced by the simple exploration of our bodies
as we were at the age of 42.  Another result of our age, and to answer a
question that may be in the back of your mind, was that we weren't as
focused on our cocks as you might expect.  Like John had told me in the
pool, neither of us wanted to come quickly, and I think we were both aware
that a sure way to do so would be to start stroking the other's cock.  So
what I remember most is the sensation of John's enormous, beautiful cock
sort of rolling around between us as we rolled around in bed - feeling it
pressed against my thigh or my tummy or my ass or wherever else it happened
to be at the time.

   Another thing you might notice is that I haven't said too much about
John's ass, aside from making clear to you how round, muscular and gorgeous
it was.  I think what John liked most (and so, what I liked most too) was
for me to reach down and grab his ass and pull him closer to me when he was
on top of me.  I did also get him on his stomach, of course, so I could
give proper attention to his back, and at the same time I was able to
explore his ass with my hands and my mouth, but I'll admit that he didn't
respond in the same way that I would to the same attention.  He didn't part
his legs, or raise his ass to present himself to me - both actions that I
was unable to resist when he did the same to my ass.  I gently probed at
his hole with my finger and my tongue, and I don't think it bothered him,
but nor did he go crazy with delight as I would.  So it was pretty clear to
me from the beginning what he wanted, and I was never particularly tempted
by the idea of fucking him anyway.  Another happy coincidence, in my book!

   To get back to my story, it's also true that despite everything I said
about wanting to take our time exploring each other's bodies, we were only
human and the point would have to come - well, maybe that's enough said. 
Also, as much as I wanted him to take the lead, which he had done easily so
far, I could only hold myself back so much.  I said earlier that soon after
we started making out in the pool, I knew that I wanted to suck his cock,
and the taste that he had given me earlier had only whetted my appetite; it
hadn't satisfied me.  I'll confess that a large part of my desire was
selfish - sure, the pleasure I could provide by sucking him off was
important, but I think that what I really wanted most was to satisfy my
intense curiosity.  Could I bring him to orgasm by sucking his cock and, if
I did, what would it be like?  I really just had to know.

   So there came a time when we were lying together, our limbs entwined,
slowly grinding ourselves together, and I reached my hand to his cock and
said, quietly, "John, there's something I really want."

   He didn't say anything, but I knew he was listening.

   "I really want to suck your cock, John.  I want to make you come."

   (Sure, I realize how odd it was, but also how incredibly erotic it was,
for me to be asking to suck his cock.  I mean, normally you'd think the
request would go the other way, but this is how it played out.)

   Still, he didn't say anything, but he rolled over on his back, sighed,
and sort of adjusted his hips to get comfortable.  He bent one arm up to
put his hand under his head, and rested his other hand lightly on my
shoulder.  I looked at him expectantly, and was rewarded with a gentle
pressure on my shoulder.  I smiled at him, and started to scoot slowly down
his body.  He smiled, too, and the pressure increased slightly.  When I
felt his cock brush against my collarbone, I tore my eyes away from his and
looked down at it.

   The pressure on my shoulder continued until I had twisted around to
settle between his thighs, which he opened to accommodate me.  Then he
moved his hand up and played with my hair while I got into a kneeling
position, my legs folded beneath me and my body bent over to bring my face
just inches from his cock.  I looked at him expectantly one last time, just
before his hand moved from my hair to my cheek and pulled my face forward
gently.  Just as my lips made contact with the underside of his cock, I
closed my eyes.

   Parting my lips slightly, I familiarized myself again with all the
sensations of his cock.  It's length and girth of course, but also its heat
and the rhythm of his pulse.  I worked my mouth from the tip to the base of
his cock with a combination of kissing, probing with my tongue and gentle
sucking.  Of course, there was already plenty of precum at the tip, and I
brought this down with my tongue to coat his cock in a gooey, delicious
mess.  Then I wrapped my hand around the base and opened my eyes to look up
at him.  He had raised his head slightly to get a good view of what I was
doing, and so when I started running my tongue back and forth along the
underside of his cock I was rewarded with the look of pure pleasure I saw
on his face.

   When he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, and moved his hand
back into my hair, I sensed the time for teasing had ended.  I brought my
mouth back to the tip of his cock and took one final, quick look at him
before closing my eyes, parting my lips and bringing his cock into my
mouth. As before, at first I could only get about two or three inches in,
and I could really feel him stretching the sides of my mouth.  But I sort
of resettled myself, scooted back a little, took a deep breath, and plunged
my mouth down again.  I heard him gasp when, with a feeling of triumph, I
sensed that I had worked four or five inches into my mouth.  Instead of
pulling back, I tried to flatten my tongue and slide in just a bit more of
him.  My goal was to work my way down to the edge of my hand, which was
still holding his cock steady at the base.  I had no illusions about
getting his whole nine inches into my mouth, but I thought I could do six.
Having gotten close to my goal, I paused to suck on him as best I could
while pressing my tongue up against him.  I felt my cheeks hollow as I was
rewarded by not only his moans of pleasure, but also the throbbing of his
cock, which was growing stiffer and just a bit larger with each beat of his
heart.

   After a moment, though, it became too much for me, and I pulled back to
look at him.

   "Mark, you don't have to ..." he said, gently.

   "No, John, I want this.  I can't tell you how much.  Please let me do
this for you."

   He said nothing, but just slipped his hand around to the back of my
head. And when I plunged my mouth forward and onto his cock, I felt his
hand remain there, encouraging me rather than pushing me.

   This time, I moved more quickly down his cock and nearly reached my
hand. His hand's steadying presence told me that he liked this position, so
I concentrated on sucking and pleasing him more than on bringing more of
him into my mouth.  His precum continued to ooze out into my mouth, and I
was a bit surprised to discover that the taste wasn't bothering me at all;
in fact, I felt like I was becoming used to it.  I also liked the
throbbing, and the feeling of the blood running through his veins, which
were so prominent on his cock.  I tried to match my rhythm to his.

   I would take a break by running my tongue along his cock, and also
giving some attention to his balls, and then resuming my sucking.  After I
got comfortable with as much of him as possible in my mouth, I started
bobbing my head up and down on his cock, working him in and out of my mouth
as quickly as I could, all the while maintaining suction as best I could.
Until this, he had remained pretty much still and passive, though I could
tell from his moans of pleasure that I was having the effect on him I had
intended.  But when I started sucking him in and out, it was as if his body
became alive again, and I could sense his abs and other muscles flexing to
work his hips up and down as he began to fuck my face.  Now it became
important for me to keep my hand wrapped around the base of his cock, as
both a tiny restraint on him, but also as a point of reference of me.

   Feeling him become more and more excited, I realized that my first
question would soon be answered in the affirmative - an enthusiastic
affirmative, in fact.  I was capable of making John come by sucking his
cock.  Knowing he was close, I was careful to maintain exactly what I was
doing, but slightly increased my rhythm to match the quickening of his
breath.

   When his breathing became panting and then cries of "ah ... ah ... yes"
I knew it was gonna happen.  Just when I felt his balls start to throb, I
instinctively pushed my mouth forward to take him as far as I could, then
sucked as hard as I could, and when I felt the first pulse of his orgasm, I
somehow knew to clamp my hand as tightly as possible around the base of his
cock for just a second.  At this point, he literally cried out "ah ... ah,"
and then I relaxed my hand.  As I felt his cum surging up through his cock,
I worked my hand up slightly to sort of milk it into my mouth, and I
concentrated on keeping my lips tightly around him.

   The first jolt of his cum - the first I had ever experienced - was warm
and sticky in my mouth.  It was beyond me to try to swallow.  The best I
could do was to keep my mouth closed around him as my hand instinctively
worked up again to milk his second surge of cum into my mouth.  This became
too much for me, and I had to pull off of him, coughing slightly.

   "Mark," I heard him gasp in a mixture of pleasure and concern.  So I
looked up at him and managed a quick smile before moving my mouth down to
clamp my lips at the underside of his cock.  He was still coming and cum
was pulsing out of his cock before oozing down over it.  I remember that it
was important for me to keep my eyes open and to be looking at him as I
worked my tongue and lips over his cock, lapping up as much of his cum as I
could.  Naturally, it got all over my lips, nose, cheeks and chin, as well
as the drops that spurted up onto my eyebrows and forehead and into my
hair. I wanted to be looking into his eyes so he could see how pleased and
proud I was.

   After a few seconds, his orgasm subsided and he curled forward to bring
his face near mine.  I kept my head back just a bit; I didn't want him
kissing me in this condition, but still I looked at him.

   "Mark, Mark," he said, "You don't hafta ..."

   Now it was my turn not to say anything.  I just smiled at him and pushed
gently on his shoulder, indicating he should lay back.  As he did so, I
unwrapped my legs and moved to straddle his hips.  I was beyond turned on.
I was completely beyond any sexual state I could recall.  I cannot remember
ever having a stronger need to come than I did at that moment.

   After straddling him, I wrapped both my hands around his cock - still
turgid, throbbing and of course very slick with cum - and my own rock hard
cock.  With no concern other than my own pleasure, I started moving slowly
up and down, pressing my crotch down on him and then sliding my cock along
his as I raised my hips up.  His cock was so long that it never had to lose
contact with my own.  At the height of my movement, the end of his cock was
still pressed firmly against the base of mine.

   After I got comfortable with this motion, I started moving faster and
faster.  Basically, I was masturbating myself by holding our cocks
together. It was incredible.  Now literally bouncing up and down on him, I
looked down at his face and saw a look of not only pleasure but also pure
amazement.  In fact, he looked rather stunned at the intensity with which I
was going at it.  His reaction did nothing to diminish my ardor, which only
increased as I let my eyes drop over his body.  I realized that my
attention to his cock had, of course, worked his own body into quite a
state.  I could see that he was now covered with a sheen of sweat and his
skin was flushed.  In my fevered state it was as if his whole magnificent,
muscular torso was now throbbing like his cock had been earlier.

   No longer able to contain myself, I started talking.  I just had to let
loose all the dirty, nasty thoughts that overflowed my brain at that point.

   "Grab my ass, John, grab it."

   Of course he eagerly complied, digging both hands into my ass and then
helping me to keep up the intense rhythm I had set.

   "Oh yeah, you like my ass, don't you John?  You like my tight little
ass?"

   "Mmm, hmm," he grunted, lasciviously smiling at me.

   "Yeah, well, you know what I like?  I like what you were doing before,
in the pool.  When you had me bent over and you were working on my ass. 
Remember that, John?"

   "Oh yeah."

   "Remember how much I liked it?  Could you tell how much I wanted you up
my ass, John, how much I wanted you to fuck my ass right then, right there
in the pool?  Do you know how much I want this big huge cock of yours up my
ass?"

   He was just looking at me, wide-eyed in amazement.  I sort of think he
couldn't believe what I was saying.

   "Uh huh, that's what I really want John.  What I've been wanting a long
time.  Sure, I just got one thing I wanted.  I got to suck that beautiful
cock of yours.  I got to make you come in my mouth.

   "But that's not all I want, Johnny boy.  That's not all I want out of
your big huge cock.  I want you to fuck me too.  I want you to shove it all
the way up my ass.  Up my tight little ass."

   Now I started bouncing really fast, slapping my thighs down against his
and rattling the bed.  I knew I was going to come soon, so I tried to relax
my grip just a bit, and let the feeling of his cock sliding against mine do
the work.

   "Oh yeah, Johnny, you gonna do it for me?  You gonna shove that dick of
yours up my ass?  You gonna make me come, Johnny?  Oh yeah, Johnny, you're
gonna do it.  Right now you're gonna do it for me."

   And then, I knew what I had to do.  As I felt the orgasm growing in my
crotch and then breaking over my body, I just had to let it out, let out
something I'd kept locked inside for so long.

   "Oh Johnny," I squealed in a girlish voice.  "Oh ... ah ... yes ... ooh.
Yes Johnny yes.  Oh fuck me please Johnny, fuck me fuck me please.  I want
you Johnny.  Want you please Johnny."

   As I came I clamped my thighs on his and held myself steady as I worked
his cock against mine.  I felt my cum spurt out and all over my hand and
his cock and also down onto his body.  Then it was as if the release of my
cum released all the tension in my body and I settled down on top of him.
Still keeping our cocks in both hands, I just held them there, giving at
most a gentle squeeze to settle our cocks too.  Finally, I let go of them
and settled my hands on his hips, which I now realized were covered by the
same layer of cum that covered our cocks and my thighs.

   For whatever strange reason, everything that had just happened,
everything I had just said, came rushing back to me.  In my post-orgasmic
mind, I must have felt some shame or something, because as I looked at John
I realized that he looked stunned - shocked, even - by my intensity, not to
mention how he must have reacted to my begging him to fuck me in a girlish
voice (which reaction I missed because I was coming at the time!).  All of
which drove me to cry out, "I'm sorry John, sorry, sorry, sorry."

   He reacted immediately.  "Oh no, no Mark.  No.  Don't be sorry.  That
was incredible.  You're amazing.  I love what you just did."

   I just looked at him, beaming.  I couldn't believe he said that.  I
couldn't believe how deeply I felt how completely wonderful he was at that
moment.

   In the state I was in, it was very easy for him just to raise himself up
and flip me over on my back.  I wrapped my legs around his thighs and
settled my hands onto his ass, pulling him forward and against me.  He
raised himself on his arms and I was presented with the imposing image of
his torso flexing itself up above me as he started slowly thrusting against
me.  He was just so powerful, so masculine!

   And that just made it ok for me, I guess.  I thought back to what I had
been thinking after our dinner together.  About how I was verbal, he was
physical.  About how there were ways that he could please a woman that I
would never be able to do.  I thought then about sharing those thoughts
with him, but my better judgment prevailed, and I remained silent. 
Instead, I signaled to him how much I enjoyed what he was doing, how
willing I was to give myself to him.  I guess I understood that masculine
and feminine didn't matter so much as John and Mark mattered.  And I
understood that Mark wanted to be fucked and John wanted to fuck, so
nothing else mattered!

   After a few minutes, he relaxed and lay down on top of me, and one hand
went instinctively to his curls, the other to his ass.  Our bodies were hot
and sweaty and, frankly, a little slimy.  I knew what I needed to recover
from what he had just given me.

   "Let's take a shower, John."

   "Good idea."

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