Summer in the band

[SwimTeamSpeedo]

Part 1:

The ribbons and the accolades spoke for themselves. Three straight Gold medals, three state championship wins, best brass solo performance two of three years. It is often said one person does not make up a great concert band, but one great performer can make a concert band great. In this case, a concert band that was a blend of students from three high schools and a few smaller schools across the Crown of Maine, a place where musical talent never could compete with the bigger schools in Portland, Bangor and Augusta. The wall of the “band hall”, if one could call it that, was lined with the accolades. The best was a write up from the Portland Press Herald that called the Aroostook Combined Regional Concert Band the best performance to hit Maine since the pilgrims. “At the top of the act is a gifted trumpet player, Chris Hill, who can play with the best of them worldwide,” the story went on to say. Oh sure, maybe exaggeration to a limited degree, but there was quite a bit of truth in the assessment.

Chris was a late child, the last of three in his family. One girl and two boys. He was lost when his family came to Maine, especially to the potato harvesting land of Northern Maine. Aroostook is way north, touching the Canadian border. In fact, it is so far up in Maine that Canada tried to claim it as their own land in the 1800’s, touching off a near war between the two countries. The real language of Aroostook is a blend of French, Canadian English and US English mixed in with an accent that makes all of it totally confusing. Not by choice, more by circumstance, Chris was really an only child. Fourteen years separated his older sister from him, so she was long gone and living in DC with her nerdy husband, a computer geek who worked for the NSA or something like that. His older brother of seven years was also his best inspiration., at least while he was around, but by the time they moved to Maine, Mickey was already in college “back home” in North Carolina.

Two things finally made Chris start to like the remote world of Northern Maine. The band was the first, and Chris quickly rose to the top of the local school band and then the regional band. Swimming was second. Chris joined the local swim team. While he loved swimming, he was not quite as good at it as he was music. The top swimming spots were locked down between Zachary and Ryan, to local guys. That did not stop Chris, who balanced swimming with band and the demands trumpet lessons in Orono, the home of Umaine.

Chris was a tall and handsome guy. He was over six feet, thin and muscular with a tight set of abs, muscular legs and a delightful smile. He wasn’t a bulky muscled guy, but he was softly chiseled with definitions that were clear, but not overly done. He had a fantastic smile of gorgeous white teeth, perfectly aligned. His face was soft, sweet and genuine. He was witty, fun and made people laugh. He attracted the eyes of every girl. When he was in his swimsuit he looked beyond stellar. He could well have been a model. Everything about him was handsome, well proportioned. He wore a swimsuit better than any guy on the team. Much to Ryan’s disappointment, Chris was absolutely straight and enjoyed the attention girls gave him, both at band and at the pool. He was fresh, non local opportunity in a region where family ties and small towns make for tightly knit circles. Pictures of Chris in his swim team suit were secretly stashed in the bedrooms, lockers and books of almost every girl in his school. He was cute, hot and they all wanted some action with him.

It was the end of his Senior year in high school when his trumpet instructor asked Chris about his interest in trying out for a group of students who would spend the Summer traveling Europe. He had just turned 18 and was ready for an adventure. The band would play concerts in six different countries, including one in Paris directly under the Eiffel Tower. His teacher, a music professor at the University of Maine would also be one of the band directors. It was a dream come true, except that it would mean he would miss most of Summer swimming season. Still far too great to pass up.

________

The alarm went off early, way too early for Chris’s roommate, Alexander. Chris quickly shut the alarm off, but not before it woke both of them up. They were in a small dorm room at a college on the outskirts of Boston, the band’s home for the first week. The band would spend long days rehearsing and pulling together before they would begin the European journey. Chris quietly slipped out of his bed, hoping Alex would not be too much more disturbed. Alex laid quietly watching Chris’s handsome male physique crawl from the bed. Chris reached for the tiny blue and gold Speedo swimsuit he had left on the top of his luggage. He slipped it on over his naked, youthful body, tucking his male parts into place inside the tight swimsuit. Chris was still somewhat aroused, a state he often woke up in, but nothing the water would not quickly resolve.

“What are you doing?” Alex asked groggily. He watched through the sliver of light coming under the dorm room door, enough light to allow Alex to see the shadow outline of Chris’s handsome body. Alex and Chris had hit it off well, in part because they had similar gregarious personalities, and because Alex thought Chris was cute. Very cute, in fact. Alex knew this would be a fun seven weeks. He did not know, until now, that Chris was a swimmer or that he’d be wearing tiny little swimsuits.

“Sorry, go back to sleep. I am going to do my swim workout.” Chris whispered. He felt bad for waking Alex.

In the dark light Alex could barely make out the swimsuit Chris had slipped on, except that he knew it was a Speedo swimsuit. The suit he watched Chris lay out the night before. Alex had never seen a guy live in a Speedo swimsuit, only on television watching the Olympics. Alex’s school had a swim team, but he never went to see them, despite his inner attraction to cute guys. As he watched Chris, he wanted to flip on the light and see him live, clad in the tiny little blue swimsuit. He could barely make out the dark form of the tight swimsuit against Chris’s body. What he could see told him Chris looked hot.

“Have fun,” Alex said. Alex was totally aroused under the sheets, a situation he would deal with after Chris left.

Chris slipped shorts on over his swimsuit, topped it with a yellow polo shirt, untucked, and grabbed his swim bag. He quietly opened door and slipped out, not even aware that Alex was actually watching him the whole time. The rest of the dorm was quiet as Chris headed off to the campus pool. It was barely six in the morning, breakfast was at 8 and rehearsal at 9. Enough time to get in four or five thousand yards. For whatever reason, Chris was still quite aroused in the swimsuit. He tugged at the front of his shorts as he walked to the pool. He preferred that his near erection would ease before he got there. “The one bad part of swimsuits,” he thought to himself.

[SwimTeamSpeedo]

The pool was in a gorgeous building with a full glass side. It was a 25 meter pool with an adjacent dive well. It was by far one of the most amazing pools Chris had seen. He entered the main door, signed in with the cute young lady at the desk, She had long, sweeping blonde hair that looked soft and silky. She was wearing a red guard swimsuit and blue shorts. Her eyes were the prettiest color of blue and her smile made Chris practically melt. He was instantly in love.

“You’re with the band?” she said.

“Yeah,” Chris replied. “But I also swim,” he added almost implying band kids didn’t do such athletic endeavors.

“What do you play?” she asked.

“Trumpet,” Chris answered.

“You must be pretty good, too.” She added. “My name is Sheri, I am usually here in the mornings. How long are you here for?”

“Through Friday, then we fly to Amsterdam,” Chris replied.

“Well, I am sure I will see you around. The guys locker room is through there,” Sheri pointed. “Swimsuits only, as in like Speedos or jammers for guys, no shorts. Hope that is not a problem.”

“No, I wear racing briefs,” Chris replied, with a bashful smile.

“Perfect,” Sheri replied. “Oh, and Chris,” Sheri called out after checking his name on the sign in sheet.

“Yes,” Chris turned just as he started to open the locker door.

“No drowning, okay,” she teased with a smirk. “I really don’t want to work this early.”

“I’ll try not to,” Chris replied with a smile. She was flirting with him, Chris was flattered. In the locker room, he slid off the shorts. He adjusted himself in the tight blue Speedo. He looked in the mirror. His nearly hard anatomy was fully outlined by the tight lycra blend, a direct result of his still very aroused state. He jumped in the shower and rinsed off, which only made the lycra more clingy. All the while, he had Sheri’s cute smile and pretty eyes on his mind, which kept his body stimulated. Giving up on any hope of calming down, he pushed open the door to the pool and walked through. The pool was empty. He was the first swimmer there, not unusual in the Summer when college was out of session. Another cute female guard sat on the guard stand. Chris walked swiftly to the second to last lane, close to the floor to ceiling glass window. He grabbed a kickboard and pull buoys as he walked by.

The cute guard, watched as Chris checked his strings, then jumped into the pool. He was definitely a cute guy. By the look of his tiny Speedo, he surely had the right equipment, and he was very well put together by any girl’s standard. Chris pushed off the wall, his tall lean body gliding just below the surface of the water. If was a wonderful display of the young male body. His tiny blue suit barely visible as his well defined silhouette shimmered in the clear blue pool. The cool water had calmed him, but things in the guard stand were just heating up.

[Dooley67]

STS,

Well, you've done it again. You set up the story for all kinds of possibilities, straight and gay roommates for 7 weeks, traveling in Europe no less, the admiration and flirting of a couple of hot women life guarding, and the question of whether Chris will be able to keep up his swimming while traveling. How is an 18 year old from Aroostook County, Maine going to react to the wonders of Amsterdam, Paris, etc.? What's Alex going to do about his attraction to Chris? Will he ever confess his attraction? So many things to consider. And, as always, terrific, natural dialogue. Thanks for starting up again.

D67

[solarguy]

Great story so far! Can't wait to see where this one goes! Thanks

[SwimTeamSpeedo]

Writers note: I meant to post this last time: This is a work of fiction, any similarity to any one in real life is totally coincidental. All characters are of adult age.


“Good swim,” Sheri called out to Chris as he climbed from the pool. She admired how he lifted himself with one arm, his well defined pecs puffed up from his swim. She watched as his tiny blue swimsuit clung to his package, giving her quite the display of his manhood, which still looked great despite the effects of the cool pool water. She had watched many guys get out of he water with hardly a bulge left, but Chris was still well gifted, even wet.

“Yes, thank you for asking,” Chris replied. “I love this pool.” Chris pulled the wet clinging suit from his anatomy and in usual swimmer fashion he tugged out his strings and untied them, letting them hang loose in front of him. Sheri smiled as she watched him, she always thought it was funny that the guys did that little string thing. She thought it was boyishly cute, though.

“Yes, it is a nice pool, we have a pretty good swim team here,” she replied. “Maybe you can come to college here and swim for us.” she added.

“That would be cool,” Chris replied. “Not sure I am good enough for college swimming, though.”

“I think you are, plus you’d improve the looks of the team,” she said as if she was teasing him, but she wasn’t.

“Must be pretty ugly guys on the team, then, if a goof ball like me can make them look better,’ Chris replied.

“So, will I see you here tomorrow?” Sheri asked, still admiring the cute body standing in front of her. Sheri was only one year older, having just finished her freshman year. She was still a college girl in Chris’s eyes. He’d never had a college girl interested.

“Yeah, for sure,” Chris replied. He was plating with his strings with one hand, a nervous release. “Hey, any more lap swimming here at night?” he asked.

“Yeah, at five through nine, and there is recreation swimming from 3 to 5. Bring some of your band friends.”

“Thank you, Sheri,” Chris replied.

“See you around, Chris. And hey, you really should come to college here. You already got a friend.” She winked at him.

Chris smiled as he entered the locker room. He was starting to feel the same arousal he had on his way to the pool, a desire greater than just the a passing urge. He turned on the shower and waited for the water to warm up while he rinsed out his goggles. Once the water was warm, Chris jumped in and lathered up, letting the water rush off his head and ripple down his chest and across his swimsuit front. He slowly slipped the wet swimsuit off, his parts springing out like they had just been released from capture. He was, in fact, totally erect, his manhood standing almost straight upward, every vein defined. It turned out to be a longer shower than usual as Chris made sure he was ready for a long day of sitting and playing trumpet. He needed no distractions, especially not erotic desires coming from his parts.

Chris dried off and grabbed his shorts from his bag. The band hall would be hot, so he was planning to wear a pair of Soccer shorts with a Brasil soccer shirt, a hold over from his interest in the World Cup. As he rummaged through his bag, Chris realized he had failed to pack underwear. “Crap,” he said to himself. He had burnt up two hours at the pool, already late for breakfast, no time to get back to his dorm, grab dry underwear and have time to eat. His only other option was his wet swimsuit under the shorts or he could go commando. Chris tried commando, but quickly realized that the short shorts created too much risk. Finally, he decided to try to dry out the wet swimsuit as much as he could using a wall mounted hand dryer. He slipped on the still damp suit, pulled the shorts over and let his shirt hang over the shorts, which were quickly absorbing the moisture left in the swimsuit. “It will dry soon enough,” he thought to himself.

_________

“I was worried you had drowned or something,” Alex said as Chris sat down with his breakfast. His plate was full, the reward for a great swim session. “How was your swim?” Alex asked as he watched Chris shovel a fork load of eggs into his mouth.

“Awesome,” Chris said. “The pool here is really cool. And I met this really cute lifeguard who wants me to come to college here.”

“Wow, you have had a great morning,” Alex replied. Alex listened intently as Chris filled him in on Sheri and the pool, all the while watching as Chris packed in his extra large breakfast. “Hey, how come your shorts are wet?” Alex finally interjected as a very animated Chris came up for air.

“Oh yeah, stupid me didn’t pack any undies, so I had to put my wet swimsuit back on.” Chris smirked as he said it. “So, it looks like I pee’d myself.”

“Your shorts are like my bathing suits,” Alex replied as the guys got up from the table. “You swimsuit is pretty tiny.”

“Yeah, Speedos are pretty cool swimsuits, but they are on the tiny side,” Chris replied.

“Yeah, but they do look hot on the right guy, like you,” Alex replied. The comment caught Chris a bit off guard. He had never had a guy call him hot. Chris left the comment hang. Alex had actually never called a guy hot before to his face, either. The comment just slipped out.

“Let’s go do this,” Chris replied. The two guys headed off to the first group rehearsal. They were opposites in so many ways. Chris was lean and athletic, Alex was a die hard musician who didn’t play any sports. Chris was a brass player, Alex played the oboe. Chris was into girls, Alex was just coming to terms with being into guys. Despite all of this, they were forging a deep bond.

________


Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition was one of Chris’s favorite compositions. The band version was not quite the same as the full orchestra version, but for a trumpet player the solo parts were showcase. The band had received the music weeks before and Chris had worked night and day to perfect the muted trumpet solos as well as the grand opening. There were two great trumpet players in the band, Chris from Maine and some guy names Len from a small town near Allentown, PA. Chris was ready, but he knew it would be a battle for the lead trumpet position, a post that would come down to how perfectly they each played the solo parts of Pictures. It was for exactly this reason that Chris wanted to make sure he had nothing to distract him, not even sexual tension coming from his discovery of Sheri.

Len was equally as tall as Chris, but he had long dark hair, a skinny mustache, and he wore Tight, low cut jeans than hung hardly on his waist. He had a punk style shirt and blank high top tennis shoes. If there was ever a contrast to the clean look of Chris, Len was perfect. There was one common line between them, they both could blow a trumpet exceptionally well. For most of the morning, the two players went back and forth, trading solos and parts at the whim of the director, a tough leader who demanded perfection. He treated the band as through they were a world class symphony. He was the toughest director most of these young men and women had ever seen.

“Chris, Chris, Chris,” the director yelled. “You sound wonderful, but you need to fill the auditorium with sound. Blow it like you mean it.” Alex chuckled at the thought. “Again, not give me some sound!” the relentless director added.

By the end of the morning session, Chris and Len had both had enough. Neither knew what to think about their chances. “We break until 2. Go get lunch and relax.” the rather obnoxious director said to the group.

“You play really well,” Chris offered to Len as they closed up their trumpet cases.

“I know,” replied Len. Nothing else.

“Okay then,” Chris whispered under his breath as Len turned and walked away. If nothing else, Len was certainly arrogant.

Chris tugged at the front of his shorts, pulling the tight Speedo underneath from its grip on his package. He loved wearing his swimsuits, but after a while they started to feel really tight.

[SwimTeamSpeedo]

_______


“Hey, lets grab lunch and go lay in the sun,” a bunch of the guys from the band suggested, Alex and Chris among them.

“Good idea,” Alex offered. “I just need to go get some shorts on,”

“I am just wearing my boardies,” said Peter, a clarinet player who was, in fact, wearing board shorts and a Polo shirt. He pointed at his shorts as he said it.

“You in?,” Alex asked Chris.

“Yeah, maybe.,” Chris replied.

“You already got a swimsuit on,” Alex added. “Your the most ready of all of us.” Alex was getting hopeful and excited at the image of Chris laying out in his Speedo. He was sure Chris would be the only Speedo guy.

The guys all grabbed the box lunches that had been brought in for them from a local lunch restaurant. They were getting rambunctious at the thought of spending two hours outside. The guys in jeans all headed to their dorms to get shorts or swimsuits. Chris and Patrick stayed back, both guys were already in shorts. “We’ll meet you guys back here,” they all agreed.

“Mr. Hill,” the voice startled Chris and Patrick. It was the director, along with Chris’s instructor from Umaine, who was the brass assistant director.

“Um, yes sir,” Chris replied.

“May we both have a chat with you, privately?” the request followed.

“Sure,” replied Chris. “Patrick, I will try to catch up.”

“We want to talk to you about the solos and about you being lead trumpet,” the director said as they walked to a table.

“This is great news,” Chris’s instructor added.

“You are an exceptionally gifted musician, young man, possibly the best I have seen at your age.” the director complimented Chris. He was a much nicer man in person than he was in front of the band. “Your skill is impressive. By the way, I made the decision on my own so there was no unfair advantage” the director added, a reference to the relationship with his instructor.

“Thank you sir,” replied Chris. “Thank you, both “ he added.

The three chatted for several minutes. As they wrapped up the director said, “I am told you are also quite the swimmer.”

“Well, I am not sure about the quite part, but I do love to swim, second to trumpet,” Chris added.

“It is why you have that lung power, young man,” said the director. “The good news is, I am a swimmer, too. I know where every lap pool is on our entire trip. We must go work out as we travel.”

“That would be great sir,” Chris replied.

“Now, go have fun. I will announce this to the band after lunch, so please do not tell anyone. I need to talk to Len, too.”

“Yes, sir,” Chris replied. With that he ran off to catch up with the guys. He so badly wanted to tell Sheri, too. He would honor his word.