Old Green Bike

[SwimTeamSpeedo]

Coach Ryan's annual team party at the lake was always a blast. After the long swim practice, the team bantered about the upcoming afternoon at the lake. Everything was discussed from what swimsuits each of them were going to wear, to what hot girl was going to be the biggest turn on. Even talk of hot guys filled the locker room. Jake took some teasing about whether Lizzie and he were going to be off in the woods frolicking in poison ivy. It was not much past 9 and the party did not start until the afternoon. Most of the guys were going to head over to the local diner for breakfast and more sometimes raunchy banter.

Stormy listened but did not participate, his wounded self esteem showing in his pity party for one. Jake and Allen glanced over a few times. Stormy just sat on the bench, still in his colorful jammer suit. Jake and Allen had not changed, either. "Hey, Stormy, " Jake opened as he walked over. Stormy looked up. "You are coming to the lake, right?"

Stormy looked back in silence for a minute. He rubbed the Lycra encased upper legs that were still reeling from the ass licking he just took. "No, I got things to do," he replied as he stood up.

"Well, it is a really good time, and a great way to meet the team," Allen chimed in. "If you change your mind..."

"I said I wasn't coming," Stormy cut them both off. With that, he walked out of the locker room, bare chested and still wearing the wet jammers.

"He's still adjusting to the change," Chris came over. Chris looked so hot in his tight fitting Turbo swimsuit, Allen started getting aroused. "That was really nice you guys tried to include him." Chris added, putting his hands on both their shoulders. "He's a good swimmer. He'll come around."

"Yeah, we'll keep trying," Jake replied as he grabbed his stuff. Allen agreed. The guys left still wearing their suits, heading for breakfast. Most of the rest of the team had already headed out, even Lizzie took off. Some in shorts, some dressed just as Jake and Allen were.

Stormy left the pool and headed west out state route 163 toward Mapleton. The Mazda Miata was a gift from his parents for making him move his Senior year, part bribe and part 18th birthday. It was the perfect day for a joy ride in a convertible as he rolled past fields of potato crop in full bloom. He was still naked but for the form fit jammer, which was getting dryer by the second. It was 6 am back home, his friends would be just starting swim practice at the awesome pool complex just east of Phoenix. Free of the humiliation he took at the pool, Stormy gained his esteem back. His left hand on the wheel, he rubbed his bulge with his right, growing aroused. Thankfully, Northern Maine is not well patrolled, as Stormy teased himself in the hot red Miata, he blew through Mapleton's center at 50, ignoring the posted 25 speed limit.

The Raceway Diner was use to the swim team guys crashing the place for breakfast, many wearing their skimpy swimsuits with shirts over, teasing the cute girls who served the home cooked food. The owners overlooked the attire because the team came in hungry, ate and spent a lot, and they were a fun group to watch and listen to. "Wholesome boys," said the owner, an older lady who called anyone under 30 as boys or girls. The only rule was no foul language, but that even slipped out in their youthful exuberance.

Lizzie sat close to Jake, her hand strategically placed on his inner leg, she could feel parts of him that turned him on. She was still in her one piece competition suit with short nylon shorts over. Many of the girls on the team were far less revealed than the guys. "So then he says he needs his own lane because there are no good swimmers on the team," Jake said as he related the story, somewhat embellished.

"What a jack ass," said Ricky, violating the language rule. Ricky was in a hot red print Tyr, two inch sides. He had the cutest bulge, which was well outlined by the soft Lycra material. He had caught the eye of one of the cute wait staff.

"I think he is just lost," Allen said insightfully. "It has to be hard...". He trailed off.

"I agree, we need to give him a break,". Jake chimed in.

"We are a team," Ricky added. Ricky had an idea, and he found Stormy pretty cute.

Lizzie gave Jake an approving rub that about made him pop out of his suit. Good he was sitting, his erection strained against the suit, a release of moisture creating a west spot between his legs.

The hot red Miata climbed the hill west of Mapleton and made a quick right into the gravel lot of Haystack Mountain. Stormy smiled when he saw no other cars, he had the place to himself. He grabbed his hiking shoes off the floor of the passenger seat and slipped them on. He slipped a cropped Lycra shirt on, one that matched a color in his jammers. He carelessly tossed his keys in the center console and set off up the single trail that would lead him to the top of the small, but mighty little mountain. More of a big hill really. His cell phone tucked in the waist of his suit and a big bottle of water in hand. He was still horny, but the hiking returned his bulge to normal. Stormy also felt so alone.

Allen left breakfast and rode the old green bike west, also along route 163 heading toward Ashland and directly through Mapleton. He swapped the t shirt he borrowed from Jake for the more brightly colored spandex top, not exactly a real cycling jersey, but close enough. At least he was highly visible. He wore his swimsuit rather than his only pair of cycling shorts. He had a thirty mile ride ahead of him. Jake, Ricky and two other swimmers passed in Jake's truck, honking and carrying on as they passed the swimsuit wearing cyclist.

"Cute shorts," Ricky yelled out. Allen gave him a teasing hand jester in return. For the next 25 miles it was Allen, the bike, and the open road.

Stormy sat atop the mountain. To the east he could see all the way to Presque Isle and beyond, actually into Canada. To the south a view of Scopan lake, formerly called Squa Pan, until the whole political correctness thing ended its original Indian name. To the west and north the town of Ashland and the abundant north Maine Woods. It was a fantastic view, but for Stormy it was a place to think. He looked at his cell phone and imagined he was back with his team, half way through practice. Arvid, called AJ, his best and closest friend would be looking all hot and sexy in his jammers, driving Stormy wild. Stormy began to massage the arousal he felt thinking about AJ. He quickly became fully hard, enjoying the feel of his expanding bulge. Stormy's tough guy shell started to melt away as he looked across the expanse of rural in all directions.

"Oh man, this just sucks," Stormy thought to himself. His mind wandered from his arousal to the conflict he was feeling. "No one here is going to accept me," Stormy thought to himself. "At least not like my team did." His eyes became wet and filled with tears. His hand stopped as his emotions poured out. He had never told his parents of his attraction to AJ or that he was sure he was gay. "And now here I am in podunkville where they would never accept me," he said to no one atop the mountain. As Stormy sat alone, he missed the sight of Allen making the tough climb on the highway below. The swimsuit clad cyclist was coated in salty sweat as he crested the top and rode right past the gravel entrance to Haystack. Allen and Stormy were so much alike, but neither knew it. In fact, across his new team, Stormy had more in common than he realized. Stormy sat alone, tears streaming down his face. When his phone chimed a text message, he brightened, sure it was AJ sending him a selfie in his swimsuit.

"Hey Stormy, please come to the team party, I can pick you up," read the text. It was from Ricky, who got Stormy's number off the team roster.

Stormy did not reply, at least not yet.

[Swimmboy]

Really loved this chapter. Stormy was a complete ass - yet I was feeling sorry for him, knowing how alone and out-of-place he must feel, so he tried to compensate for that with his 'tough-guy' act. I'm glad Jake, Allen and the others will be patient with him. And I think he will be surprised to find others 'like him' in rural Maine!

[a speedo minded guy]

STS,
We eagerly await your next chapter of this great story.

[SwimTeamSpeedo]

Allen knew exactly the suit he wanted to wear to the club picnic. He stood in the outdoor shower washing the salty sweat from his body, letting the cool water rinse over him. As he imagined the new swimsuit, he grew hard, really hard inside the swimsuit he had worn at practice and rode home in. He rubbed along and over his bulge, enjoying the sensation of making himself more excited. He was amazed that even after all the athletic endeavors so far he actually had any energy left. It didn't tale long before he brought himself all the way, a small but intense thrust of release as he shot across the small stall of the outdoor shower. He let the water calm him as he slipped himself back into the swimsuit.

"Hey Jake, want to ride over to the lake together?" Allen texted as he got ready for the afternoon of fun. He ripped open the package holding his brand new Funky Trunks Stroke Rate brief, a crazy colorful two inch side cut that he had just received, along with two other new suits.

"Cool, I will be over shortly," came Jake's reply. "Ricky is coming with us." He added. Jake and Ricky were still wearing the suits they had on at practice, which would stay on them for the festivities at Coach's house. Jake's Sporti Flags brief was still tight and small, but Jake felt great in it, and it showed him well. Ricky was in a colorful print water polo style suit from Q swim, with narrow sides and a low cut that barely covered him. It was one of his new favorites.

Stormy hiked back down Haystack. He was still all alone. His face brightened when the selfie from AJ came through. AJ was 5'10", muscular, dark spiked hair and deep eyes. He was rocking a red and blue Speedo print jammer, showing an impressive bulge of masculinity. The image stirred the arousal Stormy had suppressed with his emotional breakdown. Stormy shot back his own selfie. Back to his Miata, Stormy raced off.

Ashland, an older golden retriever, was in his glory. Coach Ryan's dog loved when the swim team came over. He got lots of attention, ate hand outs galore, and played ball nonstop. Ashland was also a hit with the ladies on the team, and naturally attracted the guys interested in chatting with the ladies. About half the guys wore swim briefs, while the rest were in boardies or shorts, some over briefs and some commando, it was not hard to figure out who was what way. The girls were like minded, about half in the full piece swimsuits, while others, including Lizzie wore more revealing suits. In Lizzie's case a white string bikini that would test the tightness of Jake's suit. Coach Ryan wore a CaRioCa Ventania low cut brief, his usual very colorful look. The suit fit him well and gave a nice masculine display.

The entire team, a few past alumni, and some family and friends were at the annual picnic, except for Stormy and on other member. The lake was warm for northern Maine, about 68 degrees. A light breeze created some gentle ripples on the water. The lake presented its own enticement. The testosterone in the guys took over as they looked at the swim out to the island and back.

"So how fat out is the island?" Devon asked, a handsome blonde haired guy in board shorts. A really good swimmer, albeit not fast. Devon tried hard and loved being on the team.

"Half mile," guessed Ricky. He rubbed his bulge as he said it. The masculine challenge battling his fear of open water.

"Coach says a mile or so," Allen chimed in. "Plus a half mile around the back side of the island."

"That is a long swim," said Lizzie, her hand rubbed Jake's nice, tight butt. Jake was semi hard, as his bulge showed. He grew harder.

By the end of the banter, six guys and two girls were in. The plan was in place to swim to a sandy beach on the far side of the island, regroup and swim back. Time was on the honor system. "Winner gets a date with anyone on the team," one of the Speedo wearing guys called out, creating quite a laugh.

Ricky bowed out, under the guise of being the one willing to sacrifice and follow in a kayak. "Just in case," Ricky said, hiding his fear of open water. Keith, a cute guy in board shorts, offered to follow in a second Kayak. Coach was going to stay further back in the 26 foot pontoon boat, just in case they all needed help. The swimmers launched from the dock, diving into the cool water of the lake, already ten feet deep. The depth would reach 125 feet, their kicks churning up colder water as they swam. The bottom would disappear once the depth passed 25 or so feet. They were on their own.

----

AJ had moved on. He loved Stormy, but knew that it was over the day that big moving van pulled away. He would never forget Stormy, but as the pragmatic one, AJ also knew life was always moving forward. He had already met Donnie, a cute runner who could rock AJ as much or better than he rocked his silky running shorts. What Donnie's runner frame lacked in bulk, he made up for in the packaging between his legs. Donnie was an uncut jewel, a sexual machine, with a kind heart. He was Stormy's replacement. It was time AJ put Stormy in the right perspective, gently but firmly. Young love was that way. Hours ago, swim suit erotic pictures turned to life lessons. At 18, things moved fast.

"You need to give your new team a chance," AJ said in reply to Stormy's ranting text of how much his new team and new life sucked. "They sound like they are trying."

"What are you saying?" Stormy asked.

"You gotta stop being a hard ass, make friends, move on."

Stormy stared at the text. It was not what he was expecting. Was AJ saying it was over? Stormy sat in the drivers seat of the flashy red sports car in a parking lot overlooking Eagle Lake, a long expansive lake just south of Fort Kent.

"I am moving on," came the next note from AJ. A jolt that rocked Stormy to the core. Stormy did not reply. He started the car and sped out of the lot, leaving a cloud of gravel dust. He held his jammer covered crotch with his right hand as he raced south on Route 11, tears streaming down his face, anger raged in his body. He was gay, alone and lost in a world he so badly wanted to reject.

[Swimmboy]

Another good chapter - poor Stormy is losing his bf from Phoenix, and has made no friends in Maine due to his bad attitude. Hopefully he will get his act together and give the guys on his new team another chance?

[solarguy]

Great new Chapter!!!!

[a speedo minded guy]

STS,
Great new chapter. Loving the chemistry between all the characters. Almost feel bad for Stormy, almost. You get out of life what you put into life. Looks like hopefully he will learn that.

[SwimTeamSpeedo]

Jake started out strong, but eased as the swim got long. Devon was further back, the board shorts swapped for a hot custom print Agon swimsuit from a prior team year. One of several Coach would lend out to the board short guys who would give in to swim challenges in the lake. Lizzie was in a pack of three just left and back of Jake, daringly doing the swim in her skimpy bikini with string ties. By midway across, the surprise was Allen, whose colorful swimsuit bounced in the waves as he gained ground on the slowing leaders. Those long rides on the old green bike had given Allen endurance he never had before.

Ricky stopped his kayak and shot a photo of the race, which he texted off to Stormy with a note, "Lots of team fun at the lake." He then added, "where are you?" Stormy would have no idea Jake was leading, but if he did it was sure to piss him off, Ricky thought to himself. Ricky found Stormy attractive, and something about him told Ricky there was more to Stormy than his tough guy attitude.

The swimmers rounded the back side of the island, it was still Jake leading, but Allen was only 50 feet back and solidly in second. Devon was 500 feet back, bringing up the tail. Lizzie had dropped out when her bikini bottom became untied and slipped from her body, sinking in the lake. She was now on the pontoon boat wrapped in a towel. If only Jake knew.

The gravel beach on the back side of the island quickly came into view as the lake went from deep to shallow. Jake stopped and stood first in about three feet of clear water. Allen swam up seconds behind.

"That was awesome," Allen proclaimed.

"I kind of freaked when the water got deep, but calmed down," Jake admitted as his hand adjusted himself. The cold water had shrunk both guys, making their bulges almost non-existent. They watched as the rest of the daring swimmers finished the first half, all of them cheering as Devon closed in the last 100 feet.

"What happened?" Jake called to Lizzie, who was standing on the pontoon boat, obviously still wrapped in the towel.

"I'd rather not say," an embarrassed Lizzie replied. Jake knew not to push it. After a brief break, the swimmers set off on the second leg. One guy dropped, so it was now five guys and one girl. But as they took off, Ricky quickly swapped the kayak with the dropping guy. "I can do this," he proclaimed. Coach tossed him some goggles and Ricky set off, a good minute back from Devon, who was last to get started.

------

Stormy raced down Route 11 south. He was going at least 15 over the speed limit on the narrow two lane road. As he sped past the cluster of homes that marked St. Froid lake, he heard his phone chirp with a new text. Driving too fast, he glanced at the text, hoping it was AJ saying he was just teasing. Instead he read Ricky's text and looked at the pictures. He threw the phone back down on the passenger seat. "F..k him," he said, misdirected anger. He totally missed the huge warning sign about Moose as he began the climb over Hedgehog mountain, a long steady climb known for its high density of Moose activity and car hits. His jammer was feeling tight and awkward, he had been in it all day, but right now he wanted nothing to do with swimming, jammers, or anyone related to them.

"They sound like they are trying," kept replaying in Stormy's mind. The thought stirred him. He unconsciously eased off the speed, the sporty little car backing down to 50. The rage started turning to emotion. Tears began flowing again.

------

Ricky was terrified! The bottom was gone, a vast darkness of nothing below his. His heart raced and he gasped for air as the panic set in. He began to flounder in the water as his graceful strokes collapsed under the pressure of total fear. His colorful suit no longer visible as he wet upright in the deep water. Coach slowed the pontoon boat, it was clear Ricky was in trouble.

"You stay here," Coach said to Lizzie as he put the boat in idle and cut the power. Coach threw a float to Ricky and jumped into the water. "Grab the float, Ricky," Ryan yelled. Thankfully Ricky still had enough presence of mind to hear and listen. He pounced his arms onto the float, as Ryan swam up to him. Ricky looked terrified.

"It's okay Ricky. You don't have to do this," Ryan said calmly.

"But I want to," Ricky replied, feeling like a total failure.

"Let's just relax for a second," Coach Ryan suggested as he threaded water along side of the terrified young man.

"I am not giving up, Coach," Ricky said defiantly as he calmed down, secured by the float.

"Lizzie, you can drive a boat, right?" Ryan called over.

"Yes," she replied.

Against his judgment, Coach Ryan had an idea. "Okay Ricky, we will do it together, I will be right here the whole way."

"Really," Ricky's face brightened.

"Lizzie will be right behind to us also."

Coach swam back to the boat, had Lizzie toss him some goggles, and just in case. Coach clipped the float to a rope, letting it drag behind him as the two guys swam.

"Lizzie, if you want, there is a pair of board shorts in the cubby. They might be big, but probably better than a towel,".

The rest of the swimmers were easily half way across the lake as Coach and Ricky set out on their adventure. Lizzie, now alone on the boat, quickly slipped on the board shorts. She followed the two guys 100 or so feet back. She watched as Ricky and Coach Ryan swam side by side. Their two colorful swimsuits adding pops of brightness on the dark water of the lake.

--------

"Are you okay?" The Miata was sideways in the ditch, Stormy leaning over the steering wheel, dazed and shaking. "That was on big buck."

The moose appeared out of nowhere, right in front of the Miata. Good thing Stormy had slowed otherwise he would have no reaction time. The car hit the gravel shoulder, spun across the road and ended up sideways in the soft mud ditch, facing the wrong way.

"Yeah, I am fine, I think?" Stormy answered. "What the f..k was that thing?" He said to the older guy who stopped to help. Stormy had not yet realized that in the terror of his near miss he had pissed all over himself, his jammers soaked. He was going to look pretty out of place in just a form fit swimsuit on some back mountain road.

"Let's get you out of that ditch," the self reliant old guy said. "Looks like that Moose shook you up pretty bad," the guy said referring to the obvious wetness covering Stormy's crotch. He said nothing about Stormy being in a bulging swimsuit. Within minutes the old guy had hooked chains to Stormy's car and pulled him free of the ditch. The Miata had some bad scratches on one side, but no significant damage, thankfully. It could have been far worse.

"There you go, young man. Momma will be glad you didn't hit that beast." The guys shook hands, and Stormy was back on the road, shaken, traumatized, and driving slow. His horrible day was not over, but could it get worse? At least his jammer suit was drying out. "Be careful through these parts," the old guy added.

Down the road, a rest area appeared on the right. Stormy pulled off and sat parked. He looked again at Ricky's text and the picture. The lake did look awesome. Stormy had never swam in open water, lakes were not so common around Phoenix. He started to text a reply, but did not finish. He started the car and pulled from the gravel lot.

[a speedo minded guy]

STS,

Another wonderful chapter. Feel bad for Ricky. Having a panic attack is never good. And Stormy got lucky. He's lucky he walked away from the accident un-injured