The first year of college was treating me very badly. Many assignments, projects, and presentations to submit, and very little time to do it. Do you know how difficult life is for a kid who is about to turn 18? For a year now, I've been feeling completely rushed. I entered to study software engineering because I read that I could get a good job even before graduating, and programming was a skill that I was quickly developing. But I just can't take it anymore! I left David and the rest of my swimming team at the beginning of the school year. I couldn't handle the pressure of my training to be selected by my school, going to the gym, doing my homework, going out with my friends, eating, sleeping, and existing.

I found that if I wanted to continue exercising, I would have to recover my military routine that I had in elementary school: waking up early, arriving at the gym at 5:00 am sharp, and not taking more than 90 minutes to finish my routine, so I could shower, get dressed, and have breakfast before my morning classes. My cardio had decreased considerably, but I adjusted my food portions to maintain the physique that I had worked on for more than 7 years in the pool. My abdominals were more marked than ever, and my chest was raised like a dove's. My arms had grown, but I should work on them more. One day I will have a body like Tom Holland's in Uncharted, but I'm not there yet. My hair was still dark, shorter on the sides, and curly with long curls that covered part of my forehead, giving volume to my head. My legs were as powerful as ever. I kept the habit of shaving them along with my armpits for swimming, so I showed them off using short shorts that ended without leaving any part of my thigh to the imagination. It was a day of pull exercises, and I liked to wear sleeveless shirts that showed off part of my back, presuming the muscles that I worked on that day. The shape of my torso was beginning to triangle, pointing towards my beloved cock, which lay flaccid in my red Calvin Klein boxers.

My gym was quite large, and it felt even bigger at this time of morning. Most people started arriving around 6:30, and the brave ones who were there before, like me, were a limited group, it was difficult for someone to go unnoticed, and when someone new arrived at the schedule, I could identify them in the blink of an eye.

A couple of weeks ago, a couple started coming to this hour. They looked like supermodels from Instagram. She was tall, blonde, and thin. He was a celestial vision brought to earth. His skin was white, and he had some reddish freckles that covered the various parts of his body that were not hidden by his clothes. Both wore Lululemon outfits, and they usually matched their shorts and top colors with each other. The guy had big light blue eyes that reminded me of a clear sky, a big white smile, and his golden and curly hair. His hands were covered with fingerless gloves, like mine, but they looked long, groomed, a...