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The Swimmer's Gift Part II: The Gymnast's Floor Exercises


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Guest alwaysready

The Swimmer's Gift, part II: A Gymnast's Floor Exercises

I was surprised to hear from Chuck a couple of days later. I did not recall giving him my phone number. “I wonder if I could come over. I understand you are looking for a roommate. I think I have the perfect guy...for you.”

I was surprised again: how did Chuck know I was looking for a roommate? Did I mention that at the baths? Hell, I had not even decided to take a roomie yet. “Sure. When?”

“Now is the best time.”

“Okay.” Pause “Uh, Chuck, my ass hurts really badly from the other night, so I don't—”

“No problem.”

Chuck arrived half an hour later, wearing the same sort of 501s and t shirt he wore in high school. He seemed not to have aged a single day. I had. Not for the better I thought, although a lot of guys disagree with me—apparently. Chuck thought I was crazy to feel that way. “I would have tried...well. That was impossible, because I was with another man. I mean I was owned by this man.”

“Owned?”

“Yeah.”

“Like in 'a slave?'”

“Yeah.”

“And now?

“I am free.” Pause “He disappeared. No word, nothing. I don't think he is coming back. I think he had the bug, and ended up in the hospital....and died.”

“The bug?”

“AIDS.”

“Oh. Of course.” That brief story chilled me. I did not want to convert. I did not see any point in pressing the matter, as it did not pertain to me. “Tell me about the guy you think—”

“Name is Tait. He's a gymnast.”

“Tait? That name rings a bell.”

“He won 2 silvers and a bronze at the Olympics. Part of that team of hotties who, I hear, are very into each other.”

“It took a minute before I realized what he meant. “All 5?”

“Yup. They've been together since college.”

“Why does he—”

“He need a place to live. Your house is nicely secluded in the woods.”

“I see.”

“The rent?” Chuck asked.

“Five hundred a month. Including everything.”

“Like concierge service for Tait?”

We laughed. “I can't say I would kick him out of bed.”

“I showed him your picture. That sealed the deal.”

“Okay.”

“He is in town Saturday. Shall I tell him to call?” Chuck asked.

“Definitely.”

Without comment, Chuck produced two tabs from the small pocket in his 501s. I did not need to ask what they were, though I had never done anything like that.”

“Let's party!”

“Chuck, my ass—”

“Come on, Bradley. Loosen up.”

“That might help in more ways than one.”

We smoked two bowls of T. I did not do it often, but loved the effect. We both were loose and horned. Fifteen minutes later, as we made out on my bed, I started to beg him not to fuck me. He stared in my eyes. something—i don't know what—rendered me powerless to resist. It was like at the baths. Though I did not much want to resist there. It was almost like he was hypnotizing an ever more willing sex partner.

Chuck hates lube. “I'm gonna fuck you dog style today.” With little hesitation, I assumed the position. He put a bottle of poppers under one nostril, then the other. I heard something being sprayed. In a minute, Chuck shoved his Jockey shorts in my mouth, the fabric cold and wet. “Inhale,” he ordered. I realized I could get used to this sort of life. I mean, Chuck was always a Fantasy Fuck Boy; why wouldn't I want him as my lover and, obviously, master.

I inhaled, and may have passed out. That did not deter Chuck. When I realized what was going on again, he was fucking me violently, much harder than at the baths. Very quickly, he pushed all the way in. I knew he was coming. The scum poured into my gut. It burned my ass. Like the other night at the baths. I had never had that happen before. “Ow!”

“Relax. This is exactly what you need, and what Tait is going to discover he needs. If you are not man enough to mount and breed him, I sure will be.”

I fell on my back. My hole was burning up. I wanted to push the molten cum out, but Chuck knew what was coming and shoved a large butt plug in me—unlubed. I guess to make things better, sorta, he started to kiss me, and kissed me until I fell asleep. Next morning, when I woke up, Chuck was gone. I think he bred me 2 or 3 more times in the night. I figured my hole would almost blow the cum out. I pulled the buttplug out, and waited for the scum to come out. There was none! My ass was dry, as if I had never been fucked. There was no stinging, no pain. How odd, I thought.

I had one day to get the house cleaned up. I am at best an indifferent housekeeper. The spare room, aka “the back bedroom,” was ready. I looked around to see if Chuck had left a phone number. He had not. There was no listing for him in the phone book. I smoked some more T. I was jizzed up, hoping Tait would be helpful in unjizzing me.

Early the next morning, Tait arrived, tanned, toned, and very friendly. He was a short guy—I guess gymnasts often are; while he was a nice looking kid, I didn't think he was the best looking member of that team. However, he was here and, from what Chuck said, he was all mine to do with as I pleased. It would please me to buttfuck him as soon as possible. He apologized for the gym shorts he was wearing. “I picked out the wrong pair this morning.”

“No. You didn't.” I showed him “the back bedroom.” He loved it. He put a bulging gym bag on the floor, and a back pack on the bed. I left him to his unpacking, and did some writing. Not having gotten much sleep last night, I fell asleep around noon.

I woke up to a knock at my bedroom door. Of course, it was Tait. He was wearing a bright white gymnastics single, with his high school insignia on it. He had grown some in body mask, so the singlet left little to the imagination, as Tait had not bothered to put a jock on. “Damn, we went to the same high school!” I exclaimed. “A while back for me.”

“May I sit down?”

“Sure.” He sat next to me. I could feel his body heat, and his desire. He felt mine. “What have you got there?”

An arm came out from behind his back, revealing a baggie of weed, a pipe, a lighter, and an ashtray. “I thought we might celebrate. I'm out of training—officially

“Good for you. But I hate to smoke the last of—”

“I've got more on the way. This is grown hydroponically. The strain is Blue Moon.

I had heard of the new stains of weed, much more powerful and grown in a way to escape detection from nosy constabulary personnel. “I'm game.”

“I bet you are,” Tait said. We laughed. “So I hear.”

We passed the pipe around. He filled it again. Later I opened a bottle of champagne that seemed to have appeared overnight. That wily Chuck! We were both flying.

“Have you ever slammed?” he asked.

“What? No.”

“But I bet you like Miss T.”

“Lately. Yeah.”

Tait returned a minute later with a bag. He pulled out what I guess they call a rig. He was no amateur. He got it ready, put a belt around my upper arm and found a vain quickly. I watched as he pulled up some blood, a lot of blood actually, before plunging it back into me. I coughed and went into orbit. As I moved around, unable to be still, he shot up as well.

“What do you like to do best?” I asked, trying to be subtle. I did not care what he liked. I was going to do exactly what I wanted to him.

I succeeded too well. “I like floor exercises best. If we had some mats, I could—”

“You can exercise right here.” I pulled him t me. We made out until the sun set. I loved the feel of my hand on the material of his singlet. Slowly but surely, I got it down to his waist. Tait jumped up and pulled it off. The cock, which I felt a number of times under the cotton was dancing in front of me. “I'm going to suck your crank, boy.”

Tait giggled, but offered no resistance. For some reason, the gentle style of my oral skills left me, and I was all but chewing on his stick, waiting for him to say, “watch those teeth. “ He never did. He stared down at me, running my fingers through his hair, crooning his pleasure, until he filled my mouth entirely with sweet cream. IT kept flowing. I drank at the source, and after a while, kissed him. He seemed eager to share. “Now fuck me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Silly. I love to get buggerd.” I reached for the bedside table to get a condom. “No, No, man. No condoms. Ever. Skin to skin. Don't hold back either. I've never been fucked so hard I asked someone to stop. That was a challenge. He made a move for a bottle of lube. I pushed the bottle on the floor. “You can use poppers. If you must. I want to see if you are the stud you claim to be.”I pushed him on his back, jerked his legs over my shoulders, and plunged in all the way. I am not a “big boy,” but I know what to do with it. I fucked harder than I ever had. True to his word, he just urged me on. I came quickly.

“Let's change positions,” Tait suggested. Lie on your back, and i'll ride you.”

“I just finished fucking you.”

“Let's slam again,” he suggested.

Reluctantly I agreed. I could not imagine being any more fucked up. I was wrong. He started to use the same needle. “Shouldn't you use a clean needle?”

“Nah. Not necessary.” Once again he draw some blood from me, before shooting me up again. Before he slammed, he insisted on taking more blood. “I want to do a blood slam.” I had not heard of this, but at this point, I would have stuck that needle in my mouth.

After he finished, he was sort of wild. It took him some moments to calm down enough to be ready for what he wanted. His green eyes contained a flame which mesmerized me. He pushed me down, pointed out that I was still hard, even after he cleaned my cock. “Fuck me again. Now!”

“It is gonna take—”

“A long time. Yeah.”

After a while, id di not have to do much. He rode me like a champ, and finally expressed more cum. I offered to let him fuck me. We played around all night and most of Sunday, taking a break for some hamburgers.

Monday morning, I heard Tait leave. He had a summer job. It was just as well. I felt like crap. Man, I have over done it this time. My muscles ached, which made sense given your gymnastics match. However, my sheets were soaked, and pretty soon I was racked with chills, followed by hot flashes, and a bad headache. Great, I thought, needing to get some writing done. Feverish, I took my temperature. My God! It was 102º. I rose a little more that evening. I called my doctor's service and asked to come in. they said I should come at noon. I slept fitfully, sweating, then chilled. Man, this is one crappy flu bug. Had it not been for the high temperature, I would have ridden it out. No such luck. 103º in the morning. I dragged myself to the doctor's office, wondering if some party favors might make me feel better.

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