Connor the Swimmer

Chapter One - Life in the Pool (June 1989)

I always thought that swimming was the best sport. A lot of my friends played soccer, rugby league or AFL, but I was never that it into it. I mean, I played those sure, but I didn't find them all that exciting. The best part was probably the couple of years that I played AFL for the Gundagai Gorillas. And even then, it wasn't really the game. It was being thrown around by the guys on the field and pinned down in a tackle under their warm, sweaty bodies. It was also the showering afterwards, the toxic masculinity which led to a fair amount of drinking, streaking and, interestingly, some nights humping, wanking or sucking some of my teammates off. The perks of growing up gay in a country town, I guess. I got to service the virgin straight guys who were too scared of girls. Either that, or those that were too shit scared to admit the liked a guys mouth around their cock.

Not that I did any of this lightly of course. I had to be careful that my name didn't become mud in the town. I picked my opportunities carefully. For instance, Johnny Clark was drunk as a skunk after AFL one night and collapsed next to me in bed, moaning about missing the girlfriend he just broke up with and complaining about not getting head for ages. It took him just five minutes to blow in my mouth. That was longer than it took Steve Davis to hump my arse after training one night. Wrestling with him was a joke at first and brought a lot of laughter. Still, I guess that there's only so long that two eighteen-year-old guys can roll around shirtless in their footy shorts before one of them popped a boner. When I did, Steve laughed even more but then I felt his wood pressed against my butt. I slowly moved up and down, pressing into his hard cock until he smirked, rolled me onto my stomach, ripped my shorts off, and pounded against me so hard that his bed rattled. It only took him two minutes to finish.

As much as I would never forget those times playing team sports, where I truly felt peace was in the pool. I discovered almost as soon as I started, around twelve years old, that I was rather good at it. My swim coach was a man nearing middle age called Peter. He believed in me the second my feet hit the water and boy did he let me know it. He always carried on about how quick I was and how my breaststroke and freestyle forms were so natural, better than some of the kids that had been training since their first Learn to Swim classes.

And so, I kept swimming. I dutifully awoke early every morning and trained, all through my high school years. On the weekends, my mum, and later my older brother, would drive me around to different competitions. I'd even go to Sydney a few times a year and compete in some finals. By the time I had reached Year 12, the end-pieces of our curtain rods in the living room held an assortment of a hundred or so dangling medals from all over Australia.

Mum and my brother were proud, and I guess I sometimes allowed myself to feel a bit of pride as well.

One morning, I awoke to my alarm clock and stared up at the ceiling through the dim moonlight. It was routine after all these years, but I still struggled to drag myself out of bed immediately. Instead, I lay and allowed myself to be lost in thought.

After swimming, I had to go to school and finish my history assignment. I'd been neglecting it for weeks now, and my stomach bubbled uncomfortably when I realised that it was due on Friday. Sighing, I allowed my hand to rest on my warm dick. As usual for that time of morning, it was as hard as a rock. So hard in fact, that it ached a little. I gave it a few little tugs and suppressed a shiver as my foreskin moved up and down.

I glanced at the clockface shining in the dark; four minutes until it went off again and I'd really have to think about getting up. Then, I made a spilt decision as a memory of a friend flashed across my mind; I pulled back the covers and stared moving my hand, slowly, up, and down.

The memory was of my mate, Riley. He was a short, blonde guy who loved to be naked as much as possible. As my left hand rested on my balls, I remembered the time that he had come out of the shower naked before going to a party.

The bed creaked a bit as I thought of the time he had barged into the footy change rooms and immediately pulled his shorts down to reveal his cock. He ran around the room and hugged everyone, taking great joy in the laughter he got from the rest of the team when he pretended to hump a few of the guys.

My dick was really starting to tingle now. I cupped and tugged on my balls gently as my hips began to shift. I thought of the time we were playing a game on my Sega console at the end of my bed, and he beat me. He told me to fuck him hard, pulled his undies down, spread his arse cheeks and showed me his slightly hairy hole. I had gotten hard within seconds, and he noticed.

My hips rocked more violently as I remembered him turning around to reveal his own hard dick and moved closer to me. Staring, and without saying anything, he pulled my undies off for my dick to spring out.

My finger reached down further to massage my hole and I was ready to enter it slightly as I remembered Riley looking from me, down to my hard cock and back again before slowly lowering his mouth down. His warm, wet lips made contact with my cock head and then started to move down --

'Oh fuck.' I muttered into the darkness, my hips shaking violently and my finger penetrating my tight hole.

Then, suddenly, my bedroom door opened, and the silhouette of my brother appeared in the doorway. I stopped abruptly but it was too late. Rope after rope of cum shot from my pulsating dick and onto my stomach, neck, and cheek. My heavy breathing filled the dark, quiet air as I stared, transfixed at the spot I knew my brother to be standing in.

It was dark, but not too dark. I could make him out after all.

A feeling of shame and humiliation just started to wash over me before he whispered, 'Sorry bro. Nice by the way, just wondering if you wanted a lift to the pool?' He said this in a manner that I knew to be forced non-chelones.

I nodded, then realising he couldn't see me clearly, said weakly, 'Yeah that'd be good, thanks. I'll be out in a few minutes.'

When my brother closed the door, my alarm went off again. I turned it off and sat up, making sure to cup my arm under my stomach and stop cum from flowing onto my bed. I guess I ought to feel more embarrassed, I thought, as I stood and wiped myself down with a bunch of tissues, but I had caught him wanking once. I guess that we were even now. Still, I didn't see him cum all over himself.

Trying to ignore the hotness in my cheeks, I turned my lamp on and moved around the room to find my speedos. I pulled them on, followed by my jeans, tee-shirt and socks. Then I stopped to look in the mirror.

A skinny young man with auburn hair and hazel eyes stared back at me. I pulled my fridge back and tried to fix my posture a little before concluding that it was hopeless. Then, finally ready to face the inevitable, I grabbed my shoes and backpack, turned off the lamp and exited my bedroom.

The house was dark and quiet. I made my way towards the smell of coffee in the kitchen and grabbed the mug that was waiting for me on the counter. Hamish held his own cup in one hand and a K-Zone gaming magazine in the other.

He smirked at me as I sipped the liquid, 'You good bro?' I nodded and he continued, 'That was one hell of a load.' He laughed and I smiled weakly. 'Who were you thinking about? Arnold Schwarzenegger?'

'No, stop!' I said, shoving him and slurping my coffee, my face burning.

'Dude its cool. Are you a butt man or a dick man?'

'I said stop! Just cos you know I'm gay doesn't mean I'm gunna talk about it with you.'

'Shit, alright.' Hamish said, smiling. There was silence, and then, 'Are you top or bottom?'

'Let's go, I wanna get in the pool.' I said, slamming my cup down and moving towards the door.

* * *

The pool was dark and eerie. The familiar smell of chlorine hitting my nostrils, I headed towards the group of three guys and Coach Peter standing by the water's edge.

'You took your time.' Peter said, 'Jump in and give me twenty laps freestyle for starters.'

I pulled my jeans and shirt off, leaving them by my backpack and my mind went blank as it turned towards the pool. It's something I had trained myself to do years ago when faced with the prospect of jumping into the cold water that they claimed was heated. With the other guys only a few seconds ahead of me, I automatically allowed myself to drop into the pool. Trying not to shiver as I emerged, I entered the motions I knew all too well.

I was faster than the other guys, but I had to pace myself. After freestyle came butterfly, which I didn't particularly like. Then, we had to race each other, as if we were in the Olympics.

An hour later, I was panting as I held onto the diving block. Coach handed me my water bottle and bent down to pat me on the shoulder, 'Good stuff Connor, you smashed it today mate.'

I nodded and skulled the water, holding onto the diving block desperately. If I let go, I wasn't convinced that I wouldn't sink straight to the bottom. Taking time to gather my strength, I watched Josh, a tall muscular guy a year older than me, hoist himself out of the pool. The early morning sun reflected off the prominent bulge in his red speedos as he headed for his towel. Realising I was staring for too long, I turned away. That's when I noticed that Nathanial was in the lane next to me, guzzling his blue Powerade drink in a few sips.

He raised his eyebrows, and I tilted my head in response. Although Nathanial was in my year at school, and I had known him since kindergarten, I hadn't had much to do with him. Since starting high school, he'd moved into the direction of skateboarding, motorbike riding and kissing girls. So, in a cliché sort of way, he was quite cool and, as a result, untouchable. I was quite the opposite. Not really ostracised or bullied in any way. No, I just didn't have a lot to do with anyone outside of my duo of mates, Zac and Riley.

'Good race bud.' The red headed, thin faced Nathanial said, extending a hand. 'I almost got you this time.'

'Yeah, almost.' I smirked, shaking his hand in response.

'Fuck you. I'll get you one day.' He said, before proceeding out of the pool.

This time, I consciously tried not to stare and got out after him.

Peter met me at my towel, 'How are you feeling? Are you breathing alright?'

'Pete, I haven't had an asthma attack since I was like fourteen, chill.'

'Alright mate. You were good today, what I want you to work on is your footwork. You're still not hitting the water quite right. Every time you kick, you should -'

I let Peters words wash over me as I stood, shivering slightly in the cold morning air. There was a little more activity at the pool now. Some of the workers were treating the water or working on the pumps.

'- something to work on next time anyway.' Peter eventually finished. I nodded and he added, 'I found out too, that there's some people coming out from Sydney on Saturday. I've spoken to a few of them, and they want to see how you go. Make sure you're ready for it mate.'

'Cool, thanks Pete' I said, nerves swelling in my cold belly.

A few minutes later, I headed for the showers. Josh and the other swimmer, Ben, were almost dressed and heading out the door. I said "bye" as I headed for the showers, desperate to jump under the warm water. I expected to be alone, however, when I turned the bend, Nathanial was standing under one of the shower heads. His eyes were down, and he looked as if had simply been standing under the warm stream for quite a while.

Still a little taken aback, I picked a shower two-down from him and let the water rush over me. It gave me goosebumps all over. I glanced over at Nathanial who was still standing quite still, his eyes closed. The thing was, Nathanial didn't usually stay to shower after training. He usually just threw his clothes on and drove home before getting read for school.

Then, without warning, he grabbed the rim of his speedos and slowly pulled them down until they dropped around his ankles. My heart thumped wildly. I'd never seen him naked before in all these years. His dick was big, uncut, and swung a little as he kicked his swimmers away. His arse was tight and smattered lightly with hairs. As his eyes stayed closed, I stared, my mouth slightly agape. Then, without even thinking, I pulled my own speedos down and allowed them to drop.

Gulping, I turned away and grabbed some soap. My cock tingled and stiffened as I lathered myself and closed my eyes. Don't get a boner, I willed myself, trying to think of movies or animals or nan. Anything to try and keep it down. When I opened my eyes, I was trying to remember the exact words for the Return of the Jedi title crawl. That evaporated when I heard Nathanial's voice echoing across the tiled room.

'You good there bud?'

I looked down and saw that my dick was pointing straight outwards, directly at him. Then I looked back up and smirked weakly, trying to play it cool, 'It has a mind of its own.'

'Didn't have your morning jerk aye?' was all he said.

I laughed a little and turned away, towards the soap once more. Before I did so, I don't know if I imagined his dick thickening a little too.

* * *

School that day wasn't fun. I arrived late and missed the first five minutes of Geography. Ms Prendergast's displeasure was nothing compared to mine when I found out that there was another assessment task handed out and due in three weeks, on the first day of next term.

'But Miss, that's during the holidays.' I spluttered abruptly.

Miss Pendergast stared me down through her narrow, ancient eyelids and said the line which spread dread and annoyance throughout me, 'Mr Legge, you are in Year 12 now. You're expected to work all the way up until the last exam. If you aren't prepared to put the effort in at this point, then I question your dedication to meet your ambitions.'

I left the room furiously and stopped by the bubbler before the next class. Drinking aggressively and swearing under my breath about the injustices of the world, I headed to Ancient History. I had Riley in that class at least. When I entered the room, there he sat in the back row. Short, toned with spiky blonde hair and bright green eyes. I threw myself down into the seat next to him at the back of the room and slammed my head onto the desk.

'Hey, what's up dude?' Riley said, poking me in what he must have thought was a funny way.

'That's four fucking assignments due in three weeks. This shits fucked.' I said into my arms.

Riley patted me on the back and said, 'Just think about that scholarship bro.'

I sighed. Somehow, this was exactly what I needed to hear. The thought of the scholarship with a university in Perth had rested heavily on my mind over the last couple of months. Hamish was the one who got me onto them, he made some calls and then, one day, thrust the phone to my ear out of nowhere to speak to the admissions team of the university. The woman I spoke to said that Hamish had talked up my swimming career, provided evidence and filled in an application. She asked if I was interested and, to be honest, I didn't know what to say.

I'd never thought about going to uni before. I always just assumed, I guess, that I would swim and then work some other job in a city somewhere, either Sydney, Melbourne or Brisbane. But the woman said that the scholarship would have me working with professional coaches and linked to the Australian Institute of Sport and that I'd probably end up competing with the intention of building towards the Commonwealth Games. I started to get really excited before she mentioned my mediocre grades. She said that it was an academic scholarship ultimately and that I needed the grades to suit. So, I'd been working harder than I ever had at school since. I had certainly never visited the library outside of classes before the phone call, little own after school had finished.

'You've just got to smash them out bro, then come drinking.' Riley continued as Mr Nicholson trapsed into the room.

'Yeah true.' I said, the anger ebbing away. I still didn't take my head off of the desk though, even when Mr Nicholson started talking about the Persian Wars and the Battle of Marathon.