swimmingtrunks

by Sean Michael

  “You could, after.”

  Nodding, Jessy fished out a plug, this one quite wide near the base. “I could.”

  Mike’s entire body rippled.

  “This one it is.” Jessy came back to the bed, casually tossing the plug next to him. “I’ll fill you after, keep me inside you.”

  “Oh, God.” Happy birthday to him.

  Straddling him, Jessy started to rub the lotion into his flesh, focusing on the skin around his nipples. Every touch jostled the clamps, making him jerk and shiver. Jessy watched him closely, eyes shining. Leaning down, Jessy kissed him, the thick cock rubbing against his own for the duration of the kiss. He arched, rubbing back, needing so bad, right now.

  Jessy slid away, lotion-y fingers sliding down to rub around his cock. His cock loved that idea, bobbing to try to get more attention. His legs were spread next, those slick fingers rolling his balls and moving beyond them.

  “Oh. Oh, God.” His ass squeezed tight.

  “No, just me.” Jessy gave him a wink, fingers stroking along his crack.

  Mike kept trying to be suave, it just wasn’t working. Then Jessy’s fingers slipped into him, one after the other, a tease, really, and he didn’t care about being suave. “I need... Jessy. Jessy, I gotta have more.”

  “I won’t leave you wanting, baby.” Jessy leaned over him, still rolling just one finger after another into him. “Trust me.”

  “Kiss me?” He couldn’t think.

  “Whatever you want, baby. It’s your birthday.” Jessy’s mouth closed over his as the long fingers disappeared.

  He dove into the kiss, tongue fucking Jessy’s lips, the headboard creaking under his hands. He could feel the heat of Jessy’s cock, pushing between his legs and nudging his hole. Shifting, Mike pushed down, crying out as the heavy prick spread him, filled him like he needed.

  Jessy began to move, so slowly, letting him feel every inch of that cock as it slid in and out of his body. Eyes closed, he focused on the kiss, his ass. That was when Jessy flicked the right nipple clamp.

  “Fuck!” He jerked back, slamming up against Jessy.

  Moaning, Jessy moved to lick at the skin around the clamps, tongue hot and wet on his super-sensitized flesh.

  “Fuck. Jessy. Oh, God.” He didn’t know whether to beg Jessy to take them off or not.

  Jessy moved slowly to the other one, flicking the clamp with his tongue before licking all around it. “Gonna hurt so good when they come off.”

  “Gonna... gonna get ‘em pierced when I retire.”

  “If you ask nicely, you are.” Jessy kissed back up to his neck, cock thrusting into him, pushing hard.

  “As--” Oh. Oh, fuck yes. So good. “Ask?”

  “Nicely.” Jessy grinned, hips making little circles as they pushed into him.

  “No way. Oh, right there. Right there, Jess.”

  “Here?” Jessy pushed in hard, nailing his gland, Jessy’s eyes staring into him, watching for every reaction. No words came out, he just nodded and groaned. “Right here.” The head of Jessy’s cock hit that same spot over and over and all thoughts of piercings and asking and anything else disappeared entirely.

  Things went white hot and fine, his breath huffing out of him. It wasn’t possible, but it got even hotter as Jessy tightened the collar, stealing his breath. Oh. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck yes. Yes. The words just swam around his brain, over and over and over.

  “Now, baby.” Jessy’s voice whispered in his ear, cock slamming into him.

  He came, full body, all-out, balls drawn up tight.

  “Mmm... yeah.” Jessy kept moving, cock hard and hot and good inside him.

  He floated, giving himself to Jess, nerves buzzing happily. He barely even noticed as Jessy loosened the collar around his neck.

  Jessy groaned. “Gonna be soon, baby. Taking off the clamps.”

  “Mmm.” He thought that meant no, but he was too buzzed to be sure. His nipples screamed as the clamps came off.

  “Fuck!” He snapped up, hands reaching for his nipples.

  “No touching!” Jesse shouted, hips snapping as he came, filling Mike.

  Mike’s hands stopped, halfway there, his eyes wide open.

  “That’s better.” Panting, Jessy bent, mouth closing over his right nipple.

  “I. Fuck.” He held Jessy’s head, lips open on a cry.

  Sucking and licking, Jessy eased the sting in his right, and then his left nipple.

  “You’re pure evil.” He let his head fall back as the pain eased.

  “And you love me for it.” Jessy smiled up at him, reaching for the plug.

  “Uh-huh.”

  Grinning, Jessy moved, positioning himself to slip away and replace the wonderful heat with the plug. The plug stretched Mike, had him arching, crying out softly.

  “God, you’re sexy, baby.” Jessy nuzzled him.

  “Love you, Jessy.” He stretched, riding it a little. “You gonna dress up as a vampire for dinner?”

  “That depends. What’re you dressing up as?”

  “A swimmer.”

  “Then I’m going as your coach.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “Mmm... it does.”

  Jessy settled on the bed, tugging him close. “Happy birthday, baby.”

  “Mmm. Thanks, Coach. It’s been a good one, so far.” And, like so many other things, it only looked like it was going to get better.

  Ramping Up

  Jessy checked his calendar on his phone and glanced at the time. He shook his head. They were going to be late, and the sponsor was not going to be happy. The lead-in to the Olympics was always like this, and when you were a returning Olympic gold medalist, the sponsors all wanted their bite of your apple.

  “Baby! We have to go. Now.”

  “I’m always having to fucking go.” Someone was grumpy, growly.

  Jessy couldn’t say he particularly blamed his baby for it. “I know, Mike, but we have to pay the piper. Without the sponsors, we don’t get to train twenty-four-seven.” What sucked was that it was around the Olympics that the demands on Mike’s time increased. He was sure the sponsors understood on some level that training right now was more important than ever, but they paid their money and they wanted their Olympic spokesperson, no matter what else was going on.

  “If I’m dealing with these assholes, I’m not training. I’m playing a goofy monkey.”

  He bit back his chuckle at Mike’s self-description. “I know, baby. We have to do it anyway. Come on. This is the last one, I promise.” He swatted Mike’s ass as his baby went by.

  Mike just snarled at him and stormed out the door. Not just grumpy: someone needed some special attention. Mike was going to get it, too. As soon as they were finished with this last commercial, he could give Mike a night to hold onto until after the Olympics had run their course.

  Jessy caught up with Mike and hit the open button on his key fob before settling into the driver’s seat. Mike slipped into the car next to him, headphones on, the screaming music audible even to him.

  Leaning over, he tugged out one of Mike’s earbuds. “You’re going to blow an eardrum.”

  “I am not.” Mike frowned at him. “What am I selling today? Shoes? Food? Can’t I get a fucking soda sponsor?”

  “No unhealthy sponsors.” It was a rule. As long as they could live without them, they stayed away from soda and chips and shit like that. Ever since Mike’s first Olympic medal, they’d been able to be picky about who Mike’s name was associated with. And if Jessy wouldn’t allow Mike to have it, he sure as hell wasn’t going to allow Mike to advertise it.

  Mike rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Stupid rule.”

  Jessy’s knuckles went white as he held onto the steering wheel. Mike was snarling and sassing at him now; maybe this was one sponsor duty too many. “I could call them. Te
ll them you’re too sick to do the commercial today, take you home and beat your ass rosy.”

  “Then I’d just have to do it tomorrow. I’m already in the car.” Near black eyes met his. “I’ll play nice with the money people.”

  “You could try playing nice with your coach, too.” He managed, somehow, not to snarl the words out. He wasn’t the bad guy here.

  Mike sighed. “Sorry, Coach. I’m just tired. I’ll shut up.”

  “I don’t mind that you’re complaining; it’s the tone, you know? I’m not your enemy here.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  He reached over and squeezed Mike’s knee. “We need to get our routine back, our balance.” More than anything, they needed the world to leave them alone so they could do what they did.

  “I just need to get in the water.”

  “I know, baby. When we’re done with the filming today, we’re going right to it. I swear.” He needed it, too. He needed to see Mike in the water where he belonged, doing what he was made to do. He maybe needed that even more than he needed to love hard on Mike. A few hundred thousand laps might just put them both back in their skins again.

  Mike nodded, put the earbuds back in, and leaned back against the headrest.

  Jessy concentrated on driving, following the directions on the GPS and getting them to the house where they were apparently filming the commercial for Speedos. He was going to make it clear they didn’t have all day for this, that Mike had to hit the water by one, so they had to leave at noon. Surely an eight a.m. call would see them done at noon.

  “We’re here, baby.”

  “’kay, Coach.” Mike slipped out of the car, frustration and fury in every part of his baby’s body, though the words to him had been respectful, none of that emotion directed at him this time.

  Still. He needed to bring Mike down off the ledge before they tried filming, or the sponsor was never going to get the shots they wanted.

  Jessy found the liaison and checked in with her. He shook her hand and introduced himself and Mike to her, then got down to business. “We need a few minutes of privacy. Where can we get that?”

  “There’s a bathroom and changing room. We’re going to need him in the red suit first.”

  He held his hand out for it, taking the flimsy bit of material from her and giving her his best ‘I’m the coach and I’m in charge’ smile. “Thank you, give us fifteen or so.” Then he headed for the bathroom without giving her a chance to reply or protest, knowing Mike would be following.

  Mike stripped off his t-shirt as soon the door closed, toed off his flip flops. “I can’t believe they want me to model Speedos.”

  “You wear them every day of your life, baby.” Although Mike wore the swimmer’s version of the bathing suit, not the skimpy little bits they would have him wearing for the most part on this commercial. Jessy flipped the lock on the door.

  “I know. I’m just not like, sexy model type.”

  He snorted. Mike was sexy as hell; his baby just never believed it. “What you are is a swimmer. Which is exactly the model that they need for Speedos. Meantime, I need you to be quiet, baby.”

  “Huh?” Mike frowned at him. “I told you I’d quit bitching. I did quit bitching.”

  “That’s not what I mean, baby.”

  Mike pulled off his shorts, and Jessy leaned in, grabbing the sweet prick and stroking.

  “Dude. No. No, not before they take pictures of me.” Mike tugged away, prick pulling out of his hand, Mike’s head shaking.

  “No marks, no sounds, we’re just gonna take the edge off.” He dragged Mike back and brought their mouths together, silencing any more protests with the kiss. His baby needed this. Badly. The place wasn’t ideal, but it would do.

  Mike fought him a little, then relaxed and leaned into him. He slid his hand down along Mike’s body, the long spine, the stunning ass, which he grabbed hold of, his other hand finding Mike’s long prick again.

  Mike wasn’t hard, cock warm and soft in his hand. Jessy worked the tender flesh, hand loose around it. Mike needed to blow off some steam so they could get through the filming as quickly as possible. The tension in his baby hadn’t started out as sexual, but that’s where Jessy was driving it because that’s where he could do something about it.

  Mike was staring at him, little sounds pushing into his lips. He just kept kissing, stroking, refusing to let Mike stay in his anger and frustration.

  All Mike had to do was this commercial, and then the rest of the day was theirs. They could do this, they could swim, they could do anything they fucking wanted. The quicker the filming was done, the more time they had for the water, for them.

  He slid his free hand down to grab Mike’s balls and rolled them, then reached even further back to stroke the sensitive skin beyond.

  “Jessy.” Oh, yeah. That wasn’t ‘Coach’. Mike was with him.

  He licked Mike’s lips, eyes holding Mike’s. That was it. His baby. He tightened his hand around Mike’s prick, pulling harder, insistently. Come on, he thought. Come on, give it to me.

  Mike began to roll up, moving into his touch. Yes. He bit Mike’s lower lip, then pulled it between his lips, licking at the same time, giving Mike extra sensations. Mike hummed, pushed closer, opening for him. That sweet cock was full now, heavy for him and...

  “The photographer’s ready for y’all.” The voice was harsh and shocking, intruding on their space. “We have a gymnast coming soon, and she’ll need to do her hair.”

  Mike pulled away from him, glaring at the locked door. “I’ll be out in two minutes!”

  He pulled Mike right back. “We’re finishing this, baby.” He put his hand over Mike’s mouth, not letting his boy answer, as he went back to tugging the now beautifully hard cock. “And when we’re done with the filming, we’ll go home and you’ll swim laps for me and later we’ll put your collar on you, make sure you can feel it, can feel me.”

  Mike groaned into his hand, shook his head. Fighting him.

  He let his finger push up against Mike’s nostrils. “Yes, baby.”

  Mike’s eyes rolled, just the promise of breath play enough to make that cock leak.

  Jessy didn’t let up, thumb worrying the tip, spreading those sweet drops around. “Come on, baby. Give it up for me.”

  Jessy leaned in, teeth on Mike’s earlobe. “I see you, Mike. You can’t hide from me.”

  Come spread over his fingers, Mike jerking convulsively. He kept tugging on Mike’s prick, getting every last shudder and shiver out of his boy. He finally let go of Mike’s mouth, arm wrapping around Mike to help support him as his orgasm faded.

  Mike’s cheeks were red, hot, those eyes wide. “Jessy.”

  He smiled at Mike, gave him a quick hard kiss before bringing his hand up to lick Mike’s come from it. “Now you’ll be able to relax a little and give them what they want without seizing up with anger and frustration.” He went over to the sink, washing his hands.

  “You’re something else.” Mike came to him, hugged him hard. “Love you.”

  He hugged Mike back. “Love you too, baby. Now go be a superstar.”

  ***

  Jessy’s promise of out by noon, home by one had turned into out by nine p.m. and caught in traffic, so home by ten thirty. Mike had just growled at the idea of eating and headed to the pool. He had laps to do. He dove in and started swimming, pounding at the water, just about as pissed off as he could be.

  His music came on, the driving beat sounding through the water. He’d been so pissed he hadn’t even taken the time to turn it on. He moved faster, harder, driving himself through the mad and the tired and the grr. It took dozens of laps, but finally it happened.

  Him. Water. Moving. That was it.

  Like Jessy knew, the music changed, going from his lap music to softer rock. It took a few laps, but he slowed, cutting thr
ough the water, heart pounding in his chest. A few more laps later and he felt Jessy cut into the water next to him, swimming alongside him. Jessy slowed him down, eased them until the motions were almost lazy.

  He felt the touch of warm fingers sliding along his side.

  He got to the edge and stopped, offered Jessy a half grin. “I feel better.” Hungry, but better.

  Jessy grinned back. “Of course you do. We’re in the water.”

  “Yep. Tell me there’s nothing planned tomorrow.” He didn’t think he could do another meet and greet, another stupid shoot for raisins or running shoes or more Speedos.

  “Of course there’s something planned tomorrow.” Jessy grinned at his look. “You’ve got laps to do. Lots of laps.” Jessy swam closer, fingers wrapping around his hips.

  “Okay. Okay. I can do that.” He was made to do that. He couldn’t even imagine what he was going to do when he was old. Be the world’s most wrinkly swimmer probably.

  “I know you can, baby.” They moved together, Jessy kissing him.

  This kiss was slow, easy, Jessy just loving on him, holding him up. He could feel the strength in Jessy’s muscles as the long legs tread water. They bobbed there, swimming, tongues sliding against each other. One of Jessy’s hands slid into the back of his swimsuit, grabbing his ass. He chuckled and clenched, sort of to tell Jessy’s hand ‘hi’.

  Jessy’s laughter filled his mouth. “Goofball.”

  “Yeah. Feed me? I’m hungry.” If he’d learned nothing else from Jessy over the years -- and he’d learned a lot -- it was to listen to his body and give it what it needed. A lot of the time that was Jessy himself. Right now it was food.

  “Yeah. Did you eat anything at the shoot? Or just drink far too many Sprites?” Jessy swam them back the few feet they’d drifted from the edge of the pool.

  “I didn’t eat. They didn’t have anything good.”

  “No? I asked them to have fruit on set. And real sandwiches. Plenty of water, too.” Jessy growled a little bit as he pulled himself up and out.

  “There was only pizza. I couldn’t eat that.” He’d even been good and stayed away from the soft drinks, but he knew from bitter experience that Jessy was right about him not drinking that shit.