Castle Roland

In The Pool

by Jack Scribe, of Honored Memory


Chapter 1

Posted: N/A

This story originally appeared three years ago and was my first effort to create a gay-themed novel for Internet readers. On a recent evening, the idea of re-visiting Splash in the Pool popped into my mind. I loved the characters and felt the plot/story lines had held up very well. However, I knew the writing was a little rough in spots. When I re-read this first chapter, however, it became very obvious that I needed to get out the literary sandpaper and apply the elbow grease.

I hope you enjoy the efforts. When this was first written, I wasn't sure about the amount of erotic content a story should contain. So, I erred in the favor of excess (the author slyly smiles), but didn't include anything that I thought could be considered gratuitous. After reviewing all the chapters, I realized that my young characters were very horny lads, and a tad-bit on the randy side. Therefore, the revised text - while not rated for church group study - is considerably tamer.

An improved Volume II - [Splash on the Screen][1] - will follow. [Splash on the Web][2], still in development, will complete the series.

A huge thanks to Brad, Trab and Rock! Their editing expertise has been an important part of the process. And since this was my first story, I salute Jack, Carey, Tim, Drew...and several other authors who I admire...for initially encouraging me.

Here's a small glossary for some of the Navy terms in the story. Since the Marine Corps is historically joined at the hip with the Navy, the same slang usually applies in that proud branch of the military service.

The easiest one is military time. It is a visual and verbal 24-hour clock. After 1259, to find out civilian time, subtract 12. As an example, 1430 is 2:30 pm; 2200 is 10:00 pm.

Head = Restroom - Bulkhead = Wall - Deck = Floor - Overhead = Ceiling

Topside = Upstairs - Below = Downstairs - Civvies = Civilian Dress - Cover = Uniform Hat

Go Ashore = Normally, leaving a ship. This also applies to leaving a Navy base.

Jack - April, 2008

Life was pretty neat growing up in St. Paul. Although the Minnesota winters could be brutal, my friends and I craved the sledding and snowball fights on the slopes of the closed municipal golf course near my home. During summer vacation from school, I hung out at the city park's outdoor pool to keep cool and take advantage of the swimming program for kids. Guys from the high school's swim team taught us 'minnows' how to swim and learn the different strokes for racing. By the time I reached the ripe ole age of 10, my bedroom wall was covered with ribbons and medals from the competitions. My birth certificate says, 'David Karl Swenson,' but I've been known as Dave for as long as I can remember.

And as long as I can remember, I've been attracted to guys. Don't know why...just am...but I figured it was best to keep this secret to myself. By the time I was ready to move on to middle school, I had become a master at copping a quick glance at my fellow swimmers in the changing room - and the yummy coaches - without being caught. Some of the kids were different than me: a few guys had skin covering their entire peter while others were noticeably bigger than average. I was proud to be part of the latter group. The high school swimmers gave me a glimpse of things to come, as I got older.

My neighborhood pal, Russ Bennett, and I had been friends since kindergarten. As the years passed, our close friendship blossomed. I was an only child and Russ became my unofficial brother. The kind of brother that allowed us to share all of each other's innermost secrets. Well...almost 'all'. The only time during those summer days when we were apart was at the park. Russ became active in the tumbling and gymnastic program while I did my swimming.

At 11 years of age we were up in my room and I 'innocently' asked him how long his weenie got when it was stiff.

"Gee, Dave, I've never measured it. Have you?"

"Yah," I spoke out, grabbing a measuring tape from my bedside drawer. "Wanna compare?"

He sheepishly smiled and said, "The number of times we've been together with nothing on, why not."

With that I pulled down my gym shorts and briefs. My dick was already hard. I stood there as Russell removed his sweat pants and jock. We were both at attention.

"You want me to measure you?" I said, staring in anticipation.

Russell considered the offer. "OK. But no 'Roman' hands, buddy," he countered with a weak smile. "And I get to measure you."

"Deal." I decided not to get too carried away and barely touched Russ's hard dick; I held the measuring tape with one finger. "Not bad," I said with a shrug. I swear my finger was burning from touching his thing.

"Not bad? We'll see about 'not bad'." Russ wiggled his eyebrows and replied, "You're next, Clark Kent."

"Right. Then I'll change into my Superman suit and cape, and if that's the case, you're Jimmy Olsen." I snickered and handed the tape to Russ.

"I sure ain't no Lois Lane," Russ replied as he got to work.

As I remember, I beat him by a inch. At that age who's counting? And we played it pretty straight. About a year later, we talked about jacking off together. For a while we jacked while looking at old issues of Playboy his older brother had squirreled away. Then, six months later, I suggested that it would be fun to jack each other off. I always initiated the escalation; Russell always reluctantly followed. I experienced the love - Russ loved the experience.

When we were 14 and in full pubescent bloom, we stepped over the line from mutual J.O. buddies to suck buddies. One afternoon at his place, after we had returned from playing scratch basketball in the park, Russ wanted to shower and stripped down with me looking on. As he walked to his bathroom, it took me a nano-second to strip. In the past, one or the other would take a fast shower and jump out of the water so the other could clean up. This day was different.

Before he saw me and had time to react, I entered the shower stall from behind and asked, "Want some company?" I gave him a big bear hug and started tickling his sides.

"Hey, Dude, whazzup?" Russ said, somewhat startled but giggling at the same time.

"I thought you could use a little help with the shower. And, I kinda stink too." I grabbed the soap and started washing his backside. "Part of my free service is a little massage." Freeing my hands of the bar of soap, I dug in deep with my thumbs and fingers around his muscular shoulders and back.

"Well, as long as it's free, have at it." Russ stood at ease and added, "Do I even have to guess where this is leading?"

"You might be surprised...this time." I soaped more of his body and resumed the same technique on his lower back and buns while avoiding his ass crack. As far as I knew, the 'butt hole' had only a couple of uses: taking a dump and letting out farts.

In a low voice, Russ uttered, "Dave, why haven't we done this before?" as he leaned back against me slightly.

"Put up your arms," I ordered. As he lifted them I washed his pits and brought my soapy hands around to his chest and firm tummy. I'm sure he felt my hard cock pressing against his bottom.

"Oh, jeez," he uttered as I lowered my hands to his pubes. My fingers dug in with a rotating motion. I then grabbed his equally hard cock and started slowly stroking it as I massaged his balls with my other hand.

As I placed my hands back on his waist, I said in a low voice, "Turn around, buddy." When he rotated 180 degrees, I looked into his eyes and said, "Do you trust me?"

"You know I do." I slowly lowered myself to a squatting position and began to massage his dick again. He was staring at me - there was an expression of wonder in his eyes when I looked up.

"I wanna do something different that I think we'll both like," I exclaimed.

"Different know?" Russ replied as he moved his fist back and forth in a jacking-off motion. He looked down with a questioning expression.

"Yeah. Big time different. I've wanted to try this for a while." I allowed my tongue to lightly lick his dick head and the pre-cum that was drooling out of his slit. Russ didn't resist when I swirled my tongue around. With that, I slowly took his dick in my mouth - half way, to the point where I'd gag if it went in any further - and slowly started stroking. I was lucky that Russ was average in size; it seemed to fit just right.

"Dave, where the fuck did you learn this?" he said in a dreamy fashion. "It'"

I withdrew my mouth long enough to reply, "For sure, not in Reader's Digest. You like this, big guy?"

Russ grinned, nodded affirmatively and replied, "I don't know about the 'big' part, but you can do this all day."

"Maybe...just until you shoot... me know when you're about ready to blow."

Returning to his rod, I sped up the motions and had him screaming a stream of profanities as he came. I withdrew just in time and the stream of cum hit the shower wall. I thought that this was not the time to taste his jizz...but soon. 'Let him get used to this, first,' I decided.

"Man, I don't think I've ever felt like this," Russ said after taking a few moments to compose himself.

I slowly got up and gave him a big brotherly hug. We slowly washed each other and got out to dry off. Russ did not reciprocate with an oral treat until a week later.

We continued our secret journey in advancing sexual adventures through the next two years. In the shower, one on one, and the glorious 69. In those two years, Russ was always more reserved about performing oral sex. Although I always took his load, he always insisted that I withdraw from his mouth when I was ready to cum.

"Dave," he said early in our sexual escalation, "I love you like a brother. But, that's where it stops. What we do is great," he added, "but you're the only person that I'd ever do this with." We were both naked up in his room lying on the bed. I had just taken care of him.

"Umm, you mean that you don't want to mess around anymore?" I countered with a concerned expression, as I looked into his warm eyes.

"Hell no," he snorted. "I just think that you want to take this friendship to a place where I can't go." Russ then tweaked my nipple. He smiled and said, "But getting our rocks off together is something that I'll never give up."

"Buddies for life." We had never spoken about my big crush on him. This was the closest it had ever been to being discussed.

"Best friends and suck buddies." He slid down to my crotch and slowly licked my cock until it was hard and slick with his saliva. That afternoon, he insisted that he take my cum in his mouth.

The joys of anal conquest between two horny teens - it was usually called 'corn-holing' by some of our classmates - didn't occur until our 16th year. Although we had teased about "drilling" each other, Russ and I were both too shy to take the next step - other than mutual ass probing, using saliva on our fingers to ease past the tight pucker. Two years of intense J.O. sessions and serious sucking were fine with me.

However, one day, Russ had a small sack that contained a jar of KY Jelly and a package of Trojan condoms.

We were at his house that afternoon after school. For years now, his parents both worked and didn't get home until after 6:00 p.m. As far as my folks were concerned, we were just studying together. When we moved up to his room, Russ pulled out his sack of "goodies" and gave me the rundown of what he'd like to do.

"I'm ready to explore your body in a different way," he started. "We've both seen pictures in a magazine of two men butt-fucking. If you're up to it, Dave, I'd like to feel myself inside you."

Well, there it was. 'Yikes, he really wants to fuck me,' I thought. No gray areas.

I was very curious about being a 'bottom' - an expression I had learned from reading a gay-themed paperback novel I had bought - while Russ wanted to satisfy his curiosity about fucking another person. At this point, we were both virgins, although we both dated some pretty hot girls who would probably 'put out' if we pushed the issue. In the early 90's, the definition of being a 'good girl' had changed.

"I really want to experience this with you, Dave," he spoke in a low lustful manner. "You know I'll be as gentle as I know how. We just have to figure out how to do everything right so we can both enjoy it. I, uh, got a video that is pretty good to learn from."

"We're both fast learners," I said. 'Heck,' I don't have to be convinced.'

Russ had a pretty average, almost six-inch cock when he was hard, and I knew I could take it. I had read about the manual foreplay and stretching that was needed. Russ had leveled off at 5' 8" and was buffed out with his gymnast build. He was co-team captain of St. Paul High's Gymnastic Team. On his manicured frame, with just 8% body fat, those six inches looked fantastic. I, on the other hand, had sprouted to just a shade under six feet tall, possessed a lanky swimmer's build due to my many hours training as a member of the school's award-winning swim team and continued to be one of the larger guys in the dick department.

In video fantasy time, nothing is real. It looked so easy when two men are performing on the tube. Fortunately, Russ understood that lots of lubrication and slowly stretching of the pucker was the key to mutual satisfaction.

That afternoon, I settled down on the bed with just the sheets and a large towel covering the mattress. We planned on doing laundry later. Russ put on a Trojan and scooted up between my legs. He applied generous amounts of lube to his left hand and fingers. I looked down as he rolled my balls in his right hand while his left hand grabbed my hard-on. "Buddy, take it easy," I almost whispered, "This hole you're goin' to fuck has got to last me a long time."

While Russ slowly jacked me, he moved his right hand lower. His thumb massaged me right behind my balls while his fingers sought out my pucker. Slowly a finger moved in and began a very erotic exploration of the initial passage. "Dave, trust me. My dick has got to last me a long time too. As long as our friendship...forever," Russ replied as he moved his finger forward. "And, for God's sake, lighten up on those muscles. You're going to break my finger."

"Easy for you to say," I replied with a smile, took a deep breath and relaxed my sphincter. It felt strange - good strange - as his finger went deeper and probed. I squirmed a little when he hit that spot I'd read about. My dick jumped a little.

He slowly added the second and third fingers, and stretched my muscles until he felt confident he could successfully enter me with his condom-sheathed woodie. I wanted to say 'I love you,' to my lifelong friend. But I knew he didn't want to hear that. "I trust fuck my brains out," I ordered with an aggressiveness that I didn't realize I possessed. I didn't have the foggiest idea about what I was saying but it sounded good. 'I'd probably read it in one of 'those stories',' I thought.

Thank God, Russ had my welfare at heart and would never consciously hurt me. He did prep me well with the probing of his fingers and it was only a matter of time before the three fingers glided in and out. It was at that point I developed respect for the "P" zone! Russ had done his homework. He made every effort to hit my prostate. I also knew that this was not the day I'd experience the joys of rimming. That would come later...for me, as the giver.

"Buddy, I'm ready," I sighed. Slowly I placed a pillow under my butt and pulled my legs up until my knees were almost touching my ears. Yeah, I had done my homework, too. Russ leaned over me with his elbows supporting his weight. He aimed his protected erection at my hole and I helped guide it in. He slowly nudged until his dick head entered.

Russ used the Roman military philosophy: Take two steps forward and only one step back. He slowly advanced until I felt his pubes against my bottom. With some effort, I was able to suppress reaction to my initial pain.

"You okay?" he asked with concern.

I looked intently into his eyes. "I'm ready. Do it." As Russ sped up his strokes I melted to pure pleasure with an intensity that I had never experienced before. Our orgasms were not timed together that first day. That would come later.

"I feel it coming," Russ yelled at my ear.

"Let it go. Rip this mother fuckin' cocksucker in two, you fuckin' sonofabitch! Drill me."

With that, I tensed my body and sphincter and started shooting cum all over myself. Rockets, bombs bursting, and my 4th of July birthday...all in one. And, the most incredible sexual feeling I had yet encountered. As I started to relax, I felt this fuck machine still pumping me. This was now pretend time. I kinda figured out what was meant by "faking it" at that moment and decided we needed to discuss this timing thing.

"Oh, Shit, Dave." That's all he said. With that, I could feel the condom tip filling inside me. After a few post-orgasm slow strokes, Russ gently lowered himself on me and we rolled to one side, his deflating dick still in me. We hugged together until he slipped out of me. "Was it...?"

"Was it ever," I quickly replied, "but maybe I'd better clean up my language."

"Naw...that dirty talking gets me off. We might want to make sure the window is closed next time though." Russ wiggled his eyebrows and grinned.

This scenario would repeat itself for the rest of our junior year.

At 17, I sported a cock just shy of eight inches with a head that my teammates had jokingly said looked like a mushroom. This was serious meat and I knew Russ couldn't take it very easily. But, I wanted to experience being the 'fucker', not the 'fuckee'. By the springtime of our senior year, I finally got him convinced that he could take my big hog up his ass. I was aware of the importance of working the fingers up the anus to prep for penetration. Gads, such medical terms for such a beautiful act of one man physically loving another. We both knew that my hard dick would take lots of extra adjustment.

On that special afternoon in his room, I claimed my best friend's virginity.

He knew I wouldn't hurt him. I was not about to be forceful. After being fucked with his six-inches over the past year, I was aware of the pain involved initially and the euphoria that followed. Using that period in the afternoon before his folks returned from work, we went up to his bedroom.

Russ spread a large bath towel on his bed. As we looked at each other, Russ and I started to remove one piece of clothing at a time. By the time we both got down to our briefs, we both were hard as a rock and leaking pre-cum. Dark moist spots appeared at the tips of our hard dicks partially camouflaged behind the white cotton. This was going to be a big laundry day.

We simultaneously grabbed the elastic at the top of our briefs and lowered that last line of defense. We both shook our legs to free of the CK tighty whities we wore, stepped out of them and kicked them aside.

I bent down and whispered, "Russ, I'm wanna take you where you've been taking me this past year and I promise with all my heart not to hurt you." We joined in a firm, manly embrace. We looked into each other's eyes and focused on the deep meaning of the past 12 years we had spent together with this incredible relationship; friendship for him, but much more for me.

I gently turned him and pushed him down onto his bed. This bed had many memories for both of us. Reaching over to his bedside table, I found the bottle of lube. I un-capped it and applied a generous amount on my fingers. While I traced my tongue down his upper body, my first fuck finger began to probe his rosebud after massaging his balls and perineum below. I was purposely avoiding his throbbing hard veined cock. Russ was quietly moaning with a glazed-over smile.

As I brought my mouth to his nipples and lightly teased them with my teeth, I slowly inserted a second finger up his anus and slowly rotated both of them. Russ sucked in a little air and automatically tightened his sphincter muscles. Further finger fucking relaxed him. "Oh fuck, Dave. This is incredible."

I replied, "The worst, and the best, is yet to come." Using my tongue, I traveled down his incredible 8-pack and nuzzled my nose in his dense patch of pubic hair. At the same time, I inserted a third finger that caused Russ to gasp. I'm sure that if I looked, I would see a grimace in his expression. By now, I was in to my second knuckles. Touching his soft, hot, velvety interior with my three fingers was a new sensual experience for me.

At this point, I grabbed the Magnum condom and tore the package with my teeth. No small feat while still massaging a fuck hole. With my dick drooling pre-cum in copious amounts, I had no problem rolling down the condom to the base.

I returned to his groin and started tonguing his arrow-shaped dick head, lapping up the secretions. As I looked up at his face, I caught a nervous expression as his eyes watched me. I gently guided his legs up, one at a time, hooking them over my shoulders. Legs in place, I kissed Russ's nut sac as I pulled away my four invading fingers and replaced them with my condom-encased cock. I had slicked myself with a generous amount of lube.

Entry was tense. I moved in a fraction of an inch and parked. This movement was repeated several times. As he became accustomed to my length and girth, I teased him with incredibly slow, long dick action. I purposely hit his 'nut' with every other entry, and Russ moaned in ecstasy as we timed our climax. I shot my load up his ass in the condom; Russ clamped his sphincter around my hot cannon, signaling that he was cumming. The shot that was heard around the world...well, almost. I counted six volleys of love juice that cascaded from his hard cock. The first hit Russ right in the eye, followed by tracks that progressed from his head, to his chest, to his groin area. I had tenderly fucked his brains out, and he was pleased that he was able to cum without touching his cock.

Afterwards, we lay side by side. My semi-soft dick was now out of his body and free of the condom. I placed the spent Trojan on top of the ever handy cum rag. Sweat was dripping from each of our bodies. I knew that we had achieved the ultimate bonding experience between two males. This must have been what it had been like in the ancient Greek cultures with brother warriors. "Dave, thank you for this moment. You're the only person that I would want to take me. Wherever our future takes us, we are friends for life," spoke Russ very quietly as he turned his head to mine and looked deeply into my eyes.

This was Russ's and my little secret. Russ and I never kissed or shared 'the seed', mouth to mouth. In Russ's mind, he was my straight fuck buddy with an incredible friendship and a love for each other that allowed us to explore our intimate raging horniness as active teens. We continued to date the "A" list girls in high school but neither of us had any steadies.

While Russ suspected that I was gay, we never discussed it. I knew that my crush on my straight buddy would never take mutual flight. I would have loved to smother him with kisses and cuddle after our spent bodies relaxed, but this was not to be. I masked my feelings and enjoyed the physical aspects of our sexual closeness.

As far as my classmates were concerned, we were just life long buddies who excelled in our sports and studies. While a swimmer wasn't exactly considered a jock at our school, like the football players, we were respected for our athletic ability. I suspect that the swim team was also respected for the way we looked in our competition Speedos - by the gals and some of the guys. I knew that Russ's gymnast performances had the same effect.

My decision to come out to my parents happened in my last year of high school. We had always been honest with each other. There was no chance that I was ever going to be the straight son that married, have 2.2 kids and settled in suburban America. Once I was determined to come out to my parents, "come hell or high water," I set a plan into action. My plan was to bring up the subject while we had a late breakfast/lunch on Sunday.

On that eventful morning, I was very nervous. Mom had made sausages and pancakes with 100% maple syrup. She knew that I hated that Aunt Jemima crap.

After Mom called us to the breakfast table, I volunteered that there was an important issue that we needed to discuss. Christ, was I happy that we always had an open forum to talk about personal issues. Although nominally Republicans, Mom and Dad were very liberal in their social outlook on life. What terrific people. I nervously started the conversation by thanking them for being such great parents.

"Mom and Dad," I began, "both of you have been an inspiration to me. I don't know many of my classmates who have parents with your patience, understanding and wise counseling."

"Dave," you've given us everything parents dream of," Mom sweetly stated. "Your positive participation in our small family, outstanding scholarship at school, the swimming, and your excellent choice in friends; we are proud of you and love you very much."

Looking at both of them in a very solemn expression, I continued, "What I'm about to tell you may change our relationship. I'm prepared for you to be disappointed in me."

Mom and Dad both looked puzzled. They seemed concerned when I started to tear up.

Dad said, "I take it you didn't rob a bank or rape the Mother Superior at St. Mary's?" he tossed out with a small chuckle.

"Don't be so flippant. Dave is trying to tell us something that's been on his mind for a long time, I'm sure," Mom replied with a slight rebuke. Mothers always know.

"Son, I'm sorry. What's on your mind?" Dad injected.

I took a deep breath and stammered a little before finding my stride. The long and the short of it was that I was very sure I was attracted sexually to men...exclusively. I burst into fulltime crying when I told Mom and Dad that I really wanted to get serious with one of the girls that I had been dating. I continued, "But I couldn't lie to the girl or you. My heart belongs to a guy."

When Dad asked if I was seriously involved with another boy, I became purposefully vague. I didn't want to get Russ involved. "Dad, I've only had one relationship with someone my age. It was enough, however, to make me realize that I'm gay. When there is a girl involved, there isn't even a blip of sexual interest on the radar screen."

Mom and Dad, after a brief consultation with each other using some sort of facial expressions and eyebrow squiggles, told me that whatever I decided was fine with them.

"Honey, when the right man comes along for you," Mom said, "please bring him home so we can meet the person of your dreams."

I didn't reply that the man of my dreams lived next door. 'He'll never hear that from me, nor will my parents ever know it,' I thought.

They concluded by saying that I should always proceed "safely" when sex was involved. What great parents!

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