The Pool - Conclusion

There were days when I didn't see him, and I focused on my goal. Lose weight, reduce sugar, strengthen muscles, and reactivate my activity. My sedentary life made me spend entire days in bed only to get up to pee and eat, and sometimes I even took the food to bed, enjoying a piece of cheese, some crackers, and grapes while watching series and movies, or wandering around the internet.

I had no reasons to do anything. Going to the supermarket, mopping the floor, doing laundry... nothing was urgent and could be procrastinated. So the swimming pool served as an excuse to leave the house. Exercise has helped me go down three holes in my belt. The sugar remains the same, I still wake up three times to pee at night. But reactivating activity is still below par. I finish at the pool, go to the Market's cafeteria, and between my phone and the Kindle chapters that I have managed to force myself to comply with, the morning is filled. I go to a supermarket and get back home in time for the news. I finish eating while watching sports. And I lie down on the bed.

What I have gained is going back to my weekly masturbation routine. Between fantasizing about my boy, and xHamster videos of fisting, guys hanging from their balls, hanging themselves while cumming in mid-air, and being whipped with long cattle whips tied to posts or trees in the forest, envy the control, the whistles when tightening, the sound of hits, I have to learn how to use it, another goal.

Between the pool and my house, there are access to five beaches, and a nudist one. Where years ago I hooked up with several tourists who escaped from their wives for a walk and some fun... It's a beach that gets flooded as the tide rises, so before going, I check the app to see at what stage of the tide it is, and with that, I find that sometimes I don't even have the option to go for a week and a half until the tide cycle fits into my schedule. I recently started worrying about that, and now I know that the tide schedule advances between 20-30 minutes every day, I'm not so worried about the height, if it floods, it floods.

There were days when my treasure arrived as I was leaving or vice versa, and now she greets me looking into my eyes, although she quickly separates herself, but she keeps lurking, maybe thinking she might get slapped again.

Lately, she arrives when I'm already in the pool, so I do the first stretch calmly and at my own pace. When she arrives, my rhythm, my breathing, everything gets messed up. But I enjoy so much seeing her furtive observations and false indifference that it's worth losing the rhythm. Especially when I go after her. Her whole body in suspension, with her black swimsuit, and her Greek proportions. I have to slow down because she's slow, not that I'm a pro, but I already do 2000m per hour, and I'm satisfied. Plus, she does weird things, swimming backward like a butterfly stroke, something that doesn't exist but it's so cute to see her do the impossible.

Since I started going to the pool, I bought two swimsuits. Mostly to escape from the standard black one, which is very masculine for the beach but monotonous for the pool. One in Scottish plaid style from AussieBum, with the logo on the butt, visible when I get out of the pool using the ladder. Another one from Turbo, in blue, yellow, and white, also with the logo on the butt, plus two that I had abandoned at the bottom of a drawer, one orange and one purple. What a difference in quality and comfort in each brand, I prefer the purple Speedo, the most comfortable one, it's a pity the waistband has lost elasticity and the backside fabric is starting to become see-through.

When I leave the pool, I already have a routine. I shower with bar soap, I abandoned using bottles years ago. And due to my OCD, I became obsessed with solid shampoo and make it myself when needed. It takes me less than half an hour to weigh the ingredients, and a 100-gram bar lasts me three or four months. My contribution to recycling and reducing my carbon footprint.

I dry off and go into the disabled bathroom (sorry, now referred to as People with Reduced Mobility, or PMR) but without closing the door, so they can see my ass and whatever they want to see whoever wants to look. Because I can't bend down due to my hip arthritis, I need the safety bars to lean on and put on my underpants using only my feet. With my left hand, I grab the underpants by the elastic, with my right hand supported on the bar, with my right foot fingers, I grab the elastic, with my left foot, I grab the crotch area, with my right foot, I place it under my crotch so it doesn't move, with my right foot I pull up the left leg, then with my heel on the ground, I manage to raise the right leg.

Then the pants and the tank top. Deodorant, cologne, and I go to the mirror. There's only one mirror for the entire dressing room, the size of a bathroom, but at least it allows me to lean on the sink to use it. Facial cream and beard balm.

A few days ago, when I was putting on my underpants, my little one from the pool arrived. Oh, every day I find him more attractive just wearing his slip swimsuit, that back, that booty, that face... my goodness, I got so turned on. I slowed down so he could see me naked, pretending I hadn't noticed him arrive, I finished when he went to the shower.

It so happens that leaning against the sink facing the mirror, I'm right in front of the shower door where the little angel always goes. And that's where I was when the door of his stall opened. I was expecting him to come out with a towel wrapped around his waist, but I caught a glimpse of him and quickly hid away. I saw him patting himself dry. His towel is a regular one, home-sized, with a tacky border, a color I can't define. But between movements, he came into view.

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God... Jesus. Good thing at that moment he was rubbing his head and the towel covered his face like a burka, otherwise he would have burst out laughing in my face with my surprised and amazed expression. He has plump balls, not very droopy, maybe because he just showered and has a little pubic hair. As big and thick as my thumb, I must say I have big hands, or that's what they tell me when I fist. It's a bit thick, not droopy, it looks like a toddler with an erect penis, but hairier, much hairier. If I didn't know where the balls are and what shape they have, I'd say he looks like a pussy or genital beard, it's been so long since I've seen one that I almost took a picture. What a wonder. How beautiful. How arousing.

He caught me staring at his penis, and started rubbing his groin, subtly trying to cover himself. Without thinking, I stepped in front of him, grabbed one end of the towel, and pulled it. I wanted him completely naked. I wanted to keep that image in my mind for the rest of my life, but he held onto the towel.

He seemed scared, or worried, probably both at the same time, but he didn't say anything, maybe he imagined he was going to get slapped again. I pulled harder, but he didn't let go. I had an advantage, I was wearing professional Crocs with non-slip rubber soles, and he had cheap flip-flops that slipped on the wet floor from the Chinese store. Unintentionally, I found myself inside the PMR stall, my back against the wall, unable to pull any further, so I started gaining bit by bit on the towel until I reached one of his wrists.

With a quick pull, I brought him closer, embracing him around the waist interlocking fingers. I made our bodies only separated by the towel. Fists pushing against my chest, his face moving away from mine as much as possible, I could only smile.

-What do you want? - he finally said.

-You. - still smiling.

-I'm married, I like women. - pushing.

-I like you.

I released one hand and placed it on his butt. With the middle finger exploring. He took a deep sigh as he closed his eyes. Did he like it?

-Let me go, release me. - resisting. Squirming trying to free himself.

-You'll have to scream. - Without taking my eyes off him, still smiling.

I delve into his buttocks and he sighs inwards and closes his eyes again. His fists loosen their grip and I feel a shiver in his back that reaches me like a shockwave.

-Let go of me. - He says almost whispering.

-Well... yell. - I respond in the same tone. Pausing between syllables.

-I will if you don't release me immediately - his breathing becomes quicker and stronger.

-Well then, what are you waiting for?

I give him a peck while delving into his buttocks and reaching the little hole. His chest moving back and forth against mine. I kiss him and he lets himself go. I end up fucking him against the shower wall.

He assures me he has never been fucked before, never been with a man, but his anus dilates effortlessly. I don't know if it's because he practiced with roll-on deodorants or because he's excited and enjoys it, or if he naturally has a wide sphincter. Sometimes I've heard about first times that weren't painful, quite the opposite. I'm not interested in exploring this issue right now.

I have to forcefully cover his mouth. He starts screaming and moaning like a porn actress. I don't know whether it's because he watches too much porn, if that's how his wife behaves when they have sex, or if he's feeling so much pleasure that he can't control himself. I'm not interested in investigating this, but it reminded me of a pig at a slaughtering. Having him gagged forcibly turns me on even more and makes me harder.

Suddenly I feel him weaken and slide down slowly, falling to the floor as if he had fainted. I leave him sitting, with legs apart and arms at his sides. Looking like a defenseless puppy, drool dripping from his penis, forming a pool between his legs. It doesn't splash, but it keeps dripping. Thick and consistent. Like volcano lava. Spectacular.

I jerk off leaning against the wall, a foot away from his face until I climax. I splash with the mechanical movement. Face, chest, legs, not a part of his body is left untouched. Almost unconsciously and unintentionally, immediately post-ejaculation, with a foot-long droplet hesitant to fall, and semi-erect, I start peeing. I don't move, he doesn't move either. Directly onto his head, the urine flows down his body. His mouth slightly open and panting, makes the urine spread widely. I finish and we remain still as statues. The urine slowly drains away. As slowly as we seem to be. I shake myself off well. I leave the stall, finish getting dressed, and leave. What could I say to him? What could he say to me? I'll tell him next time if necessary.

I haven't seen him for several days. Or maybe I haven't coincided with him, I don't know.

Today, while swimming in the middle of the pool, I got a hard-on. I saw a body ahead of me, with a green swimsuit on the lane next to mine that looks incredible. Hairy even on the back. Whew.