Swim Competition by Barrett
Date: May 24, 2022

Brandon Rivers was on the verge of missing his flight. As they called for the last passengers to board the airplane to Sacramento, his mind was a thousand miles away. He might have been staring into the distance while his airplane rolled down the runway without him if it hadn't been for the attentive gate agent. A soft tap on his shoulder jolted him back into the present, and he hastily grabbed his backpack and boarded the flight just as the doors were closing.

He was heading home for the week to stay with his friend Conner Weller, and they always had a great time together. Normally, spending spring break with his best friend would be a source of tremendous excitement and expectation. However, something had happened a few weeks before that had completely turned Brandon's world upside down.

Brandon was a member of the varsity diving team at a major university in Texas as a junior. Brandon's physique was ideal for scuba diving. He'd always been small for his age, and even at the age of twenty, he was still smaller than many of his teammates and competitors. His little build was powerful and thin, exactly like most males in the swimming and diving profession, and he stood just over 5 feet, 6 inches tall. Because he was so little, he was able to spin tighter, faster, and more precisely than his larger opponents, and he could enter the water with less of a splash. All of this combined to make him a tough opponent on the college level.

Since elementary school, Brandon had enjoyed swimming and diving. As he grew older, he realized that many of the people who competed in his sport did so because they enjoyed being among well-toned young guys in revealing swimwear. Brandon continued to participate in the sport because he enjoyed it so much. He was better than most at it, and he loved being near and in the water. He had always felt a little apprehensive about intimate extracurricular activities. With his white-blonde hair and smooth, powerful frame, he knew he was attractive, but he focused on the competition and practices rather than the physical advances, which were sometimes overt.

Conner had been his classmate since second grade. They clicked right away and have been inseparable ever since. Some people, including their parents, thought of them as brothers. Conner had always been the taller and more powerful of the two, growing taller and stronger than his best friend.

They had double-dated several times throughout high school, played in the band together, played on the school's soccer and baseball teams together, participated in science and math fairs together, and even worked at the same after-school jobs. Most summer days found them at each other's residences, where they would spend the entire day, if not many days, together. Although neither of them had had any significant relationships in high school, they had both dated frequently, made out with females in the backseat or on the sofa, and had even reached "third base" a few times. But both lads were focused on their schoolwork, interests, and futures, and they didn't devote much time or energy to girls. Their friendship suffered its toughest test after they graduated. Brandon received a full-ride diving scholarship and a spot on one of the top five teams in the country after being admitted to a major public university in Texas. Conner was offered a baseball scholarship to a school in Ohio. They debated whether or not to take their scholarships and the thousands of miles that would separate them for months, but in the end, financial realities prevailed for both families.

Conner drove to Texas with Brandon to help him move in, then drove to his school for another two days.

Everyone worried that the friendship would deteriorate without daily contact, but Conner and Brandon each found a way to make it work. Their friendship was as solid as it had always been. Brandon's thoughts had been racing for the past two weeks, and they continued to do so at the airport, on the trip, and in the cab to Conner's house.

Brandon's life had altered two weeks previously at the regional diving championships. For the three-day event, the school had arranged for the squad to stay in a big apartment-style accommodation. The suite included four bedrooms, two baths, and a spacious common space with plush armchairs and a large television.

The team had returned home late after the second day of competition, exhausted yet ecstatic. The team's performance on the day was outstanding, and they were in good shape to challenge for the regional title. All of the guys were dressed in team t-shirts and warm-up pants as they entered the suite. Some people were still wearing their swimsuits underneath, while others went commando. When the competition was over, it was easier for them to shower in their room than than fighting for restricted shower space at the pool, and it was a point of pride for them to always wear team apparel when in public at a competition.

While a few of the guys went to shower or change, the remainder ordered pizza and set up camp in the common area. They were all really relaxed and open with each other as a group. They'd been to hundreds of swim meets together and seen each other at their best and worst, both physically and emotionally. They all accepted each other and got along swimmingly. They were, in every sense of the word, a team.

They joked and roughhoused a little more as the evening progressed, but weariness and a lack of food eventually caught up with them. The lights were dimmed and a pay-per-view movie was ordered. Brandon was sitting with three or four other guys on one of the large sofas. Within a few minutes of the movie starting, they were all dozing asleep.

Brandon awoke gently later in the film, probably halfway through. He was on his side, facing the television. His head was resting on someone's thigh, but that wasn't what had jolted him awake. It was the comforting warmth of a body crushed against his back, an arm wrapped around his chest and under his shoulder. He had one hand on his hip and the other on his shoulder. Brandon wasn't sure who it was, but he was surprised to feel particularly calm at the time. In the powerful arms of his teammate, he felt emotionally safe. He moved his head slightly, signaling to whoever was behind him that he was awake and aware, and that he was fine with the physical contact.

Someone in front of him drew him in a little closer and put his head on Brandon's cheek. Brandon could detect a smidgeon of stubble on his chin and the warmth of his breath on his neck. His emotional peace began to give way to a wish for the moment to go on forever. He was moved in a way he'd never felt before. He knew this was how he felt when he was with Conner, especially late at night when they were sleeping at one other's house. Brandon would be lying on the couch or on the floor, listening to his friend breathe. A deep sense of serenity and affection would flow over him at those times, but here on this sofa, with the unknown colleague pressing against his back, he felt something more primordial.

Brandon's hand slid beneath the waistband of his warm-up pants but remained outside the Speedo he was still wearing. The hand moved up and down his thigh, almost to his knee, reaching as high as his waist and ribs. A fingertip would gently graze across the bulge in the swimsuit once or twice. Brandon moved his body slightly to make his slender torso more accessible to his mysterious buddy. Brandon began to feel his own cock expand as he was restrained by his suit's tight spandex. The delicate touch of his partner had obviously aroused him. He was being controlled by his primordial yearning in an unexpected way. He took the other hand, which was immobile against his chest, and moved it to one of his nipples, delivering a clear message that he wanted more.

Brandon's chest was softly pinched and rubbed by the hand through the t-shirt. It wasn't enough, though. Brandon removed his t-shirt expertly without disturbing the sleep of the thigh on which he was resting his head, nor did he peek behind him to discover the identity of his mystery lover. Because he didn't know who it was, the overwhelming feelings coursing through his body were amplified. Brandon's naked chest and firm tummy were now within reach of the hand.

Brandon sat up, shirtless, shoving his small frame against the plainly larger, more powerful bulk behind him. His body was still being explored by his hands. A finger traced over the seams of his swimsuit, caressing the muscled flesh of his lower belly, carefully skipping over the knot tucked in under his suit. It crept up to the point of his hip, then down the leg opening, gradually approaching his crotch.

Brandon widened his legs a little more and moved his fingers down the seam, directly contacting the swelling in his suit that he couldn't control. They stood there for a long time, so near to his masculinity but still so far away. Brandon had no idea what was going to happen next, but he was prepared. His body, which had been mainly disregarded for so long, reacted positively to the touch of another.

As the excitement in both of them grew, he could feel the breathing behind him becoming more stiff, more intentional. He could also feel the beginnings of an erection pressing against his ass, as well as his partner's hips thrusting slowly and rhythmically. It was mild now, but there was no mistaking where this encounter was headed. Brandon encouraged the inevitable by softly moving his ass against the swelling he could feel pressing against his ass cheeks. His companion retorted.

Brandon's getting hard cock was delicately touched over by the fingertips tracing along his suit. They glided along the length of his erection, up to the still-tied knot tucked inside his suit, slowly but obviously erotically.

They slid deftly, squeezed between the spandex and his skin, yanking the knot undone in a quick and deliberate action. They didn't, however, descend any further to his cock. Brandon was overcome by a wave of disappointment. He had anticipated these powerful fingers wrapping themselves around a cock that was rather enormous for such a small body.

The fingers instead traveled to his lower back. His boyfriend slid him forward a little and pushed only the rear of his suit down with a fast motion. Brandon had no doubt what was about to happen because his cock was still tightly wrapped in spandex and his ass was exposed. Brandon was taken aback when he realized he was giving in to the moment. He was in a semi-dark room with over a dozen of his buddies and teammates, about to get fucked in the ass by someone whose identity he didn't know.

He could feel his partner pulling his pants down, unleashing his throbbing cock and pressing it on Brandon's ass as the hand moved away from his ass. Finally, a voice whispered in Brandon's ear as his hand approached Brandon's mouth. "My fingers, suck them ... Suck and spit on them NOW."

Brandon has heard the voice before. It was the team's captain, Don Davis. In the showers, he was a tall, powerful swimmer with broad shoulders, a thin waist, and an undeniably impressive body. Brandon's arousal had reached its peak. Brandon had adored Don from afar for the previous year and a half, explaining his admiration as a reflection of his skill and leadership while ignoring the captain's not-so-subtle macho sexiness. Brandon had always assumed that the dashing captain was more interested in working with the swimmers and upperclassmen, so this physical dance on the sofa came as a complete shock.

Brandon popped the fingers into his mouth and sucked them hard. He closed his eyes and imagined it was a more personal part of his anatomy in his mouth, not Don's fingers. He sucked even worse. Don uttered a low moan. "Fuck yeah ... Wet my fingers."

Don withdrew his fingers and Brandon relaxed his mouth. Don lowered his hand and rubbed his slippery fingers against Brandon's virgin arse. Brandon shut his eyes and allowed the new feelings to wash over him.

Don slid one finger in, then another fast. Brandon had heard people talk about the agony of getting fucked in the ass, but he only felt a brief burst of pressure, followed by the unexpected delight of having something put into his ass. He had to confess it felt odd, but he knew he enjoyed it and wanted more straight away. Don was eager to help. Don removed his fingers and seized his own cock, moving it up and down, just at the tight bud of Brandon's ass, almost as quickly as they had pierced him. Brandon's ass cheeks were plastered with Don's slippery pre-cum, which was also spread across the head of Don's enormous cock. Don pressed the tip of his cock against the waiting entrance to Brandon's ass, completing the process of preparing the path for his swelled cock.

Brandon felt Don's cock pressing against his ass and started begging him to penetrate his body. He tried to relax and pressed against Don, assisting him in overcoming his sphincter's resistance. Brandon was abruptly stretched as the tip slid in. Brandon didn't feel any pain, but the sharp sensation was very strong. The most tough part was the first. Brandon's body surrendered to the inevitable as the huge head of Don's cock entered him, and the rest flowed in smoothly. Brandon let out a loud, shivering sigh as Don crushed himself against him. The novel sensation of a huge cock in his ass and the physical intimacy of being rubbed against Don's smooth swimmer's body completely overtook him. Brandon snatched Don's other hand and started sucking his fingers. He was overcome with the sensation of being pierced on both ends by Don, who sucked on him voraciously.

Brandon's now engorged cock, still pressed firm against the spandex of his suit, was the target of Don's free hand. Brandon yearned to be free of his own cock, to be able to expand, move, and be caressed without restriction, but Don wouldn't let him. Brandon's ass was exposed, but his cock was restrained, thanks to Don.

"It will be more effective this way. Brandon, do you have faith in me?" Brandon discovered he had. So, while Don stroked Brandon's cock through his suit and filled his ass with his amazing manhood, he sucked on Don's fingers. Brandon's intellect faded away, and he surrendered to the physical feelings.

Don's cock slipped into Brandon's ass slowly and deliberately, never pounding or furious, but deliberate, slow, and deep, fucking him more intensely and purely than Brandon had ever imagined possible. Brandon was so engrossed in the sensations emanating from his mouth, cock, and ass that he didn't notice Don's repressed moaning.

Don began pressing harder against Brandon, and Brandon sensed that he was about to be beaten. It was something he desired. He wanted to feel Don swell up in his ass and let go of the weight he was carrying inside. He aspired to be the one to give the captain the command. Don's body locked and hitched in orgasm after two or three deep thrusts. They had both ceased breathing. Brandon was thrown over the brink as he felt the hot fluid inside him, cuming in his red competition diving gear. His warm semen was coating his cock and was partially trapped by the stiff fabric.

He was taken aback by the sensation of even more semen against the back of his neck. He reached up and gently touched Don's face behind his head, only to find Don sucking the cock of the person they were laying their heads on. Cum was dripping down his chin and into Brandon's tresses.

Brandon gently placed his hand around this slowly relaxing cock, allowing himself for the first time to feel another man's cock in his hand. Brandon began to turn in order to see who it was. "Hold still for a second while I assist you." Brandon heard Don whispering in his ear. Brandon's body erupted with erotic chills as he began sucking the semen from the back of his neck. Brandon was able to move his head after a little period and see Garrett, the senior diving captain whom Don had been sucking. "Brandon, welcome to the varsity team. You put up a great performance." Garrett wore a broad grin on his face. Brandon had been so engrossed in the moment that he had no idea he was being watched.

Garrett sighed contentedly as he leaned back against the sofa. Brandon returned his gaze to the television, pleased with himself and what had just occurred. Brandon was perfectly content to leave Don's huge cock in his ass for as long as he could. "Just one more thing, Brandon, before we head to the showers." Don stated his opinion. He reached into Brandon's suit and, for the first time, touched Brandon's cock with his bare hand, coating it in Brandon's cum. He took his hand out of his pocket and brought it up to Brandon's mouth once more. Brandon licked Don's palm clean as he closed his eyes.

The three of them lingered there till the finish of the film. Don's relaxed cock is now lying against Brandon's ass, his hand softly playing with Brandon's silky chest, while Brandon toyed with Garrett's relaxed cock a little.

The movie was just about five minutes old when it came to an end. Before the rest of the guys got up and went to bed, Don whispered in Brandon's ear that he should probably go take a shower and rinse out his suit. Don yanked Brandon back down as he attempted to sit up. "There is one more thing. Tomorrow, I'd like you to wear that red suit. And when you're walking around in it, remember how good your ass looked in a red Speedo, and how you arrived in that suit while I was pounding your backside."

Brandon could inevitably think of nothing else the next day. He kept catching Don or Garrett looking at him, and his mind went back to their night on the sofa. He was highly aware of his ass and cock being concealed by the thin cloth, and he was even more vividly aware of his naked body. He managed to keep focused while diving for some reason, but it took all of his concentration and effort.

He also saw that he was looking at his colleagues in a different light. He was particularly struck by Don and Garrett's suit fillings, which were both sensual and masculine. He was perplexed as to what he should do next. Brandon didn't have any more 'nexts' at the swim competition, as it turned out. The next night, there was a team meal at a restaurant, followed by an early bedtime. It was a fast awards ceremony when they won the competition on the last day, then back on the bus to school.

Brandon saw little of Garrett and even less of Don once they returned to school. The swim team had its own timetable, while diving practice was primarily individual work with the coaches. When he did spot them, they would exchange a knowing glance and a quick assessment of each other's physique before returning their attention to the business at hand.

He discovered that it wasn't truly about Don or Garrett. Brandon gradually realized that the night on the sofa had been based on hierarchy, power, and lust, but it had had very little to do with him individually. He had been inducted into the varsity by Don and Garrett. Garrett seemed to be referring to the dive team at the time, but the more he thought about it, the clearer it became that the varsity had nothing to do with swimming. Brandon was forced to face his own sexual cravings head on. Their couch tryst had triggered feelings in him that he had been completely unconscious of or avoiding. He'd rekindled physical passions that had lain dormant for the majority of his existence. No other relationship with a lady had ever been so fulfilling. He was also thinking a lot about Conner.

Brandon was about to spend a week at Conner's house with his best friend and had no idea how to bring up any of this with him. Brandon Rivers' following two days were the strangest of his life. He was overjoyed to see Conner once more. They had stayed in touch so closely at school and shared so much history that there was no need to 'catch up.' But he couldn't get the experience with Don and Garrett out of his head, and he couldn't ignore his emotions. But ultimately, he understood he had to come to terms with his new sexuality and how it linked to Conner.