Swimmerboy Pt. 03: Mom's Third Best

Part Three -- Mom's Third Best Friend

After a month of intense training at ASU's facility in Tempe, I made the tryouts for the Olympic training center's summer program. It had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with the drastic increase in talented competition. Despite shagging mom's Second Best friend five nights a week for four weeks and Naomi on the weekends, my performance in the pool improved steadily and dramatically. I bested all my old records by a full five seconds, almost exactly as predicted by the coaches. Far from being a hindrance or sapping my strength, sexually servicing Second Best helped relieve stress and tension in my body and the ego boost of having a regular lover AND a girlfriend did wonders for my self confidence.

So when the Olympic tryouts came I made it, but I should be clear that these weren't team tryouts. It wasn't an Olympic year. They were tryouts to be accepted for a month-long training program at the US Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs, competing with the best young high school & collegiate swimmers from around the country. Better yet, it was an opportunity to be trained by US Olympic coaches and training staff, meaning the best coaches and physiologists. Mom and dad returned from their month-long vacation just in time for Mom to drive up there with me, her intent to visit her Third Best Friend, cook my huge breakfasts and provide moral support during my training.

Mom's Third Best and her husband had a house in the foothills overlooking town. They called it a cabin even though it had six bedrooms, six baths, a family room, ski room, billiards room, library, sauna, jacuzzi, formal dining room, kitchen, summer kitchen and three levels of decking. Steep roof lines shed the heavy snows of winter with ease, a well-used snow blower sat in one corner of the four car garage and one shed held what appeared to be a year's supply of seasoned firewood, cut and stacked. Why call this palace a cabin? Because it was a vacation home. Nineteenth century robber barons called their Berkshire mansions "cabins." Why buck the trend?

The view over the city was spectacular, especially at night with the lights twinkling below. The view west was an eye-popping panorama of the Rockies. I had been there many times before on family vacations in summer and ski holidays in winter. Often the house was packed with guests. Not this trip.

We took three days to drive there from Phoenix and I really enjoyed the road trip. Not only two full days off from pool and gym, it was two days off EVERYTHING, a mini-vacation where I allowed my mind to wander as my eyes gorged on the some of the most spectacular natural scenery in the world, from Monument Valley, Arizona thru Northern New Mexico and up the spine of the Colorado Rockies. We took backroads the whole way. No interstates.

We arrived on Sunday night with training set to begin early the next morning. Mom's third best friend was already there to greet us, happy to let us use a few bedrooms. Her husband worked in Phoenix but might get away for a weekend if he could. At thirty-five, she was the youngest of mom's close circle, but unlike them she had no children. She and her husband were DINKS, double-income no kids, he a high-powered attorney, she a school teacher who had gone to UC and now spent her summers there at "the cabin" in Colorado Springs. They lived a few miles away in our swish Phoenix suburb.

Third Best was a petite woman barely five-two. At six-six, I towered over her. Thin and athletic, she tipped the scales at one-ten. With brown hair, brown eyes and the cutest little butt of all mom's friends, she looked more like twenty-five, not thirty-five. A cheerleader & gymnast in high school and college, she continued to stay fit through a mix of Pilates, running, mountain biking and cross country skiing. Add the seasonal exercise of hiking and downhill skiing and everyone knew she was an outdoor fun-hog. She maintained a great tan from nine months of the year in Phoenix and summers in Colorado. Mom and her other friends often remarked that they hated Third Best for being so tiny, so slim, so fit and so tan, wishing they had her little butt. Little did they know, as I would learn, that Third best was jealous of them for being "real women" with full hips, full breasts, and the dangerous curves of narrow waists in between.

I hit the pool first thing Monday. While my long days where filled with training, orientation, coaching and weight room, mom and Third Best tooled around Colorado Springs, hiked Pike's Peak, shopped and ate out every night. I was free in the evenings, but spent my time eating, relaxing in the jacuzzi and playing piano. Mom got bored after a week and decided to fly home leaving me with her tragically uncool minivan to drive. I dropped her at the airport, my last promise being that I would not bother or in any way be a nuisance to her Third Best Friend. With my schedule it was an easy promise to make.

That same evening I was soaking in the jacuzzi out on the deck when Third Best popped out the sliding glass door, removed her robe and slid into the water across from me.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked, not giving me a choice.

This surprised me. At first. Then I realized it was a rite of passage. A year earlier she never would have disrobed in front of me, let alone climb nude into a hot tub with me while I was nude. Only adults did such things and Third Best was treating me like one. I had secretly shagged mom's Best throughout February, March, April and May and mom's Second Best all of June, but here for the first time a woman treated me as an adult. For the first time in my life I felt like one.

"Not at all," I replied.

"I'm surprised you're in here on a warm night," she said. "Haven't you had enough of the water for one day?"

"Normally," I replied, "but I have some tightness in my upper back I'm trying to work out before tomorrow. And this jet feels great."

She smiled as I moved side-to-side in front of one of the water jets.

"Is it helping?"

"A little," I said, tilting my head side to side like Roberto Clemente and a thousand other ballplayers who imitated him.

"Do your coaches know?" she asked.

"Yeah. They cut my pool time short and had me on a training table all afternoon."

"Are you injured?"

"No. Just tight and a little stiff."

"Want me to massage it for you?"

"That would be great," I sighed. "If it's no trouble."

"No trouble at all," she smiled, drifting across the tub to me. "Turn around."

I turned and knelt on the floor of the hot tub, leaning diagonally across the bench seat so my chin rested on my forearms on the rim of the tub. Awkward, it was the only way I could expose my back to her and relax at the same time. The next thing I felt was her leg brushing against mine as she stood behind me.

"Um, I'm going to have to stand on either side of your legs to reach you."

"Should I move?"

"Um, no. I think I can work on you right there,

"Okay."

I felt the insides of her calves against the outsides of my lower thighs as she stood straddling me.

"Scoot your legs together a little," she ordered.

I did, breaking contact, but she moved her legs until they made contact with mine again, standing more upright. I hadn't realized how far apart my knees had been on the floor.

"That's better," she said. "Now. Where do you want me to start?"

"On my trapezius," I replied, touching the large muscles which sloped from my neck to my shoulders on each side.

"God! You're so tall I have to stand while you kneel."

"Sorry," I said.

"It's okay," she soothed, her hands finding the muscle group in question. Fingers and thumbs began kneading. "I can't believe how much you've grown."

I remember thinking how strong her hands seemed for such a tiny woman. I slumped, resting my chin on my hands on the lip of the tub, then turning my head sideways. The pump roared, the jets jetted, the water bubbled and swirled around us and summer crickets chirped in the night cool night air.

"My God you have a lot of muscle," she said. "Do you take steroids or something?"

"No. They're dangerous. They test us. This is just weights, swimming and vitamins."

"And genetics," she added. "I mean, look at your father."

"And my grandfathers," I added.

"Really?"

"Huge," I replied.

"I'm not surprised."

We fell silent as she worked my trapezius from neck to shoulders and back again several times, then worked her way down between my shoulder blades. Pushing hard with her arms and expending a lot of effort, she slipped and leaned against me. I felt her breasts and belly against my back for a moment until she regained her footing and continued working. Then it happened again. And again. Then six times. Then a dozen. I said nothing. Neither did she. Eventually she just leaned against me, her torso against my back, her breasts flattening against me from time to time as she worked.

"I'm just going to hold you in place with my legs," she said.

"Okay."

Third Best leaned forward, pressing herself to my back, clamping my hips between her legs, holding herself in place more than holding me in place. She kept working, but kept slipping, too.

"Here," I said, moving, "maybe if I do this."

I bent at the hips so that I was diagonal from shoulders to hips, but straight from hips to knees instead of diagonally as before. This lifted my back and butt, leaving her straddling my lower back.

"Oh that's much better," she said, clamping her legs around my torso, her pelvis pressed to the small of my back and most of her torso pressed to my back as well. Her legs went around the front of mine and I felt her hook them around the insides of my thighs. This was entirely too much contact between two naked people, but she didn't seem to mind. Clamped firmly in place, she redoubled her efforts on my back.

"Okay?" she said, reading my mind, asking permission to be clamped naked to my back.

"Mmmm..." I hummed at her fingers between my shoulder blades.

"God I can feel it," she said. "You're all knotted up deep in here.

I slumped against the side of the tub as she rode my back, loosening knots there. Had she run a hand around front she would have found a massive erection from this intimate contact. She kept pressing herself completely against me, her breasts brushing then flattening against my back as she put the weight of her body behind arms and hands massaging me. I hummed in delightful pain of tight muscle tissue being assaulted by loving human hands. The tightness melted under her hands.

Working hard, it was inevitable that she slipped off my back in the water. Wrapping arms around me to catch herself, they slid down my torso until her hand brushed my erection.

"God!" she said, feeling it.

I didn't stop her hands as they explored my chest, lower abdomen and groin from behind. Once she had hold of it, she didn't want to let go of it.

I turned around and pulled at her. She didn't resist me or my hands on her shoulders, pits, breasts, belly, hips and legs. Her lips parted to pull in the extra oxygen required. Her hands eagerly explored my front from the front this time. We made total eye contact without saying anything, giving each other permission to continue, and watching for responses to each touch, each caress. The look of passion on her face told me she knew what this was all about and that she wanted to continue. I'm sure my face said the same.

"God you are ripped," she sighed, her fingers feeling the muscular cuts all over my torso and arms. "You've grown into a powerful man."

"You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen," I said.

"They're just brown," she blushed. "Yours are better."

"Blue eyes are ordinary to me. Your big, beautiful browns make me crazy."

"I love looking in your big blue eyes," she sighed, her hands running down my sides, into my groin, then along the insides of my thighs. "Your legs are... amazing."

Unable to stop myself, I moved hands up over her breasts to her neck, took her jaw in my hands and pulled her softly into a kiss. This closed her eyes and they remained that way until our long series of kisses ended.

Her eyes doubled in size when she opened them.

"Sit beside me," she said, pushing off my lap and sitting back on the bench seat of the jacuzzi.

I did, noticing that while she pushed off, she didn't let go, pulling me along with her, maintaining contact side to side. Her hand slid down my torso and held my sex again. I had one arm over her shoulder. My other hand slid up the inside of her thigh until my fingers found and caressed her sex. She sighed and spread her legs, her eyes on mine.

"You can't tell anyone," she whispered.

"I won't."

"You can't tell anyone, ever," she said. "It can't get out."

"You have my word," I said. "You can't tell anyone, either."

"Okay," she sighed.

We felt each other up for a long time, slowly, gently taking our time, savoring the moment. She spread her legs more and didn't mind my fingers inside her. I loved the way she bit her lower lip and gasped in quiet pleasure. She didn't let go of my erection, holding it, feeling it and cupping my balls while her other hand explored my torso and squeezed my arms.

Then I pulled her into my lap and kissed her. Nearly weightless in the water, she was easy to move. I pulled her around as I circled the hot tub. She liked me moving her, controlling her, kissing her, but she instigated many kisses of her own. Belly to belly, kissing me, still holding my cock, she guided me into her and let gravity slide her down onto me.

I immediately remembered something an old, ex-marine had once said: "big girl, little hole; little girl, all hole."

It was true. Tiny little Third Best, pressing down, took every bit of me.

"God!" she whispered, her eyes rolling back. "Mmmmmmmmm..."

I resisted the desire burning in the small of my back to pump uncontrollably into her as we moved around the tub, she in my lap, coupled. It was as if we were swimming, coupled. I spun her around so her back faced me, then spread her legs on either side of me before running a hand up her torso over her breasts, the fingers of my other hand working between her legs, my mouth applying tender kisses and love bites to her neck, shoulders and ears. She liked this.

Still coupled, she spun around on my lap wanting to be belly to belly, face to face, kissing me, her hands holding me, pulling at me, or just feeling me. I alternately held her close, then loosely, following her lead. Breaking the kiss, she looked deeply in my eyes. I swept hair off her face, out of her eyes.

"You're... so... gentle..." she whispered.

"You are."

"We better go inside."

"Okay," I replied.

I followed her into the house. She closed curtains behind us before shedding her bathrobe and pulling off my towel. I lifted her off the floor and held her to my body. She wrapped legs around my waist and arms around my shoulders and neck. We kissed, our gentle, quiet outdoor kisses replaced by deep, passionate ones. Adjusting her in my arms, I slid into her—or rather slid her onto me. She really liked this and I carried her to my room that way. Coupled. Kissing all the way. Passing the bed, I took her directly to the shower in my bath. She turned on and adjusted water, testing it with her hand before saying okay. Coupled, we rinsed the chlorine off. I thought she might want to get off to stand under the shower on her own, but she didn't unwrap or let go, asking me only to try to keep her hair out of the streaming water.

She turned off water. I stepped out of the shower, still coupled to her. We toweled each other coupled, kissing and smiling.

"You're so strong," she said.

"You're as light as an angel and ten times as beautiful," I replied

"Take me to your bed."

I did, sitting, then lying on my back. Third Best immediately began sliding up and down on me. A first few slow movements quickly became a romp, her knees on either side of me, her hands on my chest and belly, my hands caressing her legs and waist, torso, chest, breasts, shoulders. Her hips began moving in ways that turned her romping into a bucking. She didn't slow down until she was done.

For the first time in my life, I spent an entire night with a woman. I remember waking in the wee hours to the oddest sensation: someone was in bed with me! Sleeping against me! Curled up to my chest. It felt great. She smelled good. Fragrant. Then I remembered. Third Best had shagged me six times, I had shagged her three times, and we fell asleep in, or very nearly in, each others' arms, satiated. I got up, peed and brushed my teeth. When I returned, the bed was empty. Assuming she had gone off to bed, I crawled back under the covers.

A few minutes later she crawled back in with me.

"Where'd you go?"

"Closed up the house," she said. "We left a few lights on."

"Ah."

"How's the tightness in your back?"

"All gone," I said, flexing shoulders.

"Good," she smiled, pressing her body to mine. "I hoped this would work. Mmm! You're all minty."

In seconds my hard-on strained again. I didn't have a fourth in me, but she rode me for her seventh, then we slept till the alarm woke us at six. Until it woke me at six. She didn't get up, curled next to me, then alone when I slipped out of bed. I leaned over and kissed her bare shoulder.

"Have a great day, beautiful," I whispered.

I shaved (and that means everywhere except my back and the top of my head), showered and sat down to a five thousand calorie breakfast. Half dozen eggs, a pound of lean bacon, six rounds of toast with butter, a pound of sausage links, two tall stacks of flapjacks slathered with butter and maple syrup, orange juice and, finally, vitamin supplements. Cooked it all myself, missing my mother doing it for me.

Halfway through the second stack, Third Best padded into the kitchen in bare feet and bathrobe. She came up and hugged me from behind.

"Good morning," I said in a soft, deep voice, trying to sound sexy.

"Morning," she sighed. "How's your tightness?"

"You tell me," I replied.

A small laugh escaped her lips, then she began kneading my trapezius before moving down between my shoulder blades.

"Feels pretty loose," she said.

"You work wonders," I replied through a mouthful.

"Wish I could eat like that."

"Take up Olympic class swimming."

"No thanks," she sighed, moving to my side, leaving one arm slung over my shoulder.

I switched fork to my right hand and put my left arm around her waist. Third Best

took this as an invitation to lean heavily against me, then sit on my lap. Her head rested under my chin.

"God you smell good," I whispered.

"Thanks," she twinkled.

"Pancake?" I offered, holding up a fork with three layers harpooned.

"Thanks," she said.

I moved it towards her mouth, she opened, then at the last second I swerved the fork into my mouth and chewed away.

"You brat!" she giggled. "You little brat."

I laughed with her. She used to call me little brat when I was a child but always with affection.

I fed her the next forkful, then began alternating, bite for her, bite for me, small bite for her, large bite for me. Until that moment, I never understood why couples fed each other. It's sexy, that's why. It's fun, romantic and bonding. It's foreplay. Her hands lifted my baggy t-shirt and felt my eight pack then ran over my hard nipples and pecs. Women love touching my abs and chest.

I fed her a little bit of everything, even sips of juice. Then I put the fork down and shifted her on my lap. She knew why, looking down at the lump in my baggy shorts. She had already been sitting on it, then reached down and felt it.

"God you're big," she smiled. "Do you know how big?"

"Eight inches," I said, sliding a hand in her robe and caressing her belly.