Clinging to the ledge of the pool, I pretended to take a break from swimming my daily laps. That's one great thing about goggles—like dark sunglasses, they give you the freedom to stare at anyone. And Marco definitely gave me a lot to look at.
It was hard to believe that when we had first met just a few years ago, I wouldn't have given him a second glance. In his high school years, he was a thin kid with an awkwardly boyish face. Like me, his lean frame made him a natural swimmer, and we also shared an interest in art. Marco was a natural artist, much better than me. Back then we bonded over our mutual interests, but my feelings about him never crossed into the sexual realm. I graduated two years before he did, and I never really thought about him after that.
Until now, of course.
The physical changes he had undergone in the intervening years were truly stunning. Gone was the skinny, weirdly-proportioned eighteen-year old that I knew. Clearly he had been spending time in the gym, because the guy in front of me belonged in a swimsuit catalog—a tight chest, broad back, washboard abs, and arms with enough muscle to make the veins stand out—all accentuated by lightly tanned Brazilian skin. He was ripped, but he wasn't too muscular. His face, once boyish, was now strikingly handsome, with chiseled features outlined by a light stubble. His straight brown hair, wet from the pool, was long enough on top to sweep across his eyes and fall naturally over his ears.
Transfixed, I watched as he effortlessly one-armed himself out of the pool. The wet bathing suit clung tightly to his body, perfectly outlining his shapely, protruding ass. And nobody could miss the sizable bulge in between his legs either.
I often found myself fantasizing about both features, getting my rocks off to thoughts of fucking his bubble butt or having his big cock tearing up my ass. Alas, I had never done either of those deeds with any guy. Through all of high school, I was strictly into ladies. Indeed, I still thought often about them. But a break-up with a girlfriend and my generally non-conformist attitude got me thinking about what it would be like to play for the other team for a day. The illicit nature of the act attracted me—after all, there must be something to this gay thing if so many guys enjoy it. It started out by just watching some gay porn for the thrill of it, but the curiosity soon became a habit, and the habit quickly turned into a constant fantasy. I was determined to have at least one gay experience, and I wanted that to be soon.
As Marco walked toward the locker room, he noticed me bobbing at the pool's edge. I raised a hand to wave.
"Hey Nicky," he said, smiling to reveal a two rows of white, even teeth.
"What's up Marco," I replied, removing my goggles.
"Oh, you know, studying for finals. Trying to carve out time to read a textbook I should have been reading all year."
"Yeah," I laughed, "pretty much the same thing here. What are you up to this tonight?"
"Probably having a few people over my apartment. Just to chill and drink casually. Wanna come?"
"Definitely, man. What time?"
"10?"
"Yeah, sure thing," he grinned. "See you later."
"Later."
I watched as Marco walked down and turned into the locker room, following the movement of his ass. As it happened, we had both ended up at the same university, and after my last relationship ended we started hanging out more. We weren't exactly friends, but he was fun to be around. To be honest, I always felt a bit of queer vibe from him—he had many beautiful female friends, but as far as I knew that's all they were. No girlfriends. No sex. Plus, he was an artist—surely he had at least entertained the notion of sex with a man. And then there were the "moments." Putting his hand on my hand. Catching him looking at me. A strange look in his eyes, almost a hunger. But I never made any moves on him—not that I knew how, anyway. If I was wrong, then it would be extremely embarrassing for both of us. I had never been with a man, and I was not keen to announce to the world that I was open to experimentation.
...
"See yeah later, Marco. Bye Nicky."
"See ya guys."
It was now around 2 a.m., and the last of the small crowd was just leaving. Marco's apartment was empty for the night, so now it was just me and him in the small living room. I almost got up to leave, too, but I didn't. This would be our first time alone, and being slightly drunk, I wanted to see where this went. Fortunately Marco didn't question my lingering presence. We continued to chat—he, too, was plainly a bit inebriated—and soon he was sitting next to me showing off a new pen and ink drawing.
"I might have gone too far in a few places. What do you think?"
The drawing depicted a long-haired, muscular man kneeling on the ground, with a voluptuous, naked woman sitting on his back. Definitely erotic, but I had no idea what the message was.
"Is that supposed to be you?" I asked, pointing to the man. The resemblance was clear.
