With You, Anything

Tucker Williams almost missed his flight. His mind was a thousand miles away as they called for the last passengers to board the flight for San Diego. If it hadn't been for the attentive gate agent, he might have been staring into the distance while his flight rolled down the runway without him. Shocked back into the moment by a gentle tap on his shoulder, he quickly grabbed his backpack and boarded the flight just as they were closing the doors.

He was going home to stay with his friend Jon Weller for the week and they always had a lot of fun whenever they were together. Normally staying with his best friend over spring break would be an occasion of great joy and anticipation. But something had happened a couple of weeks ago which had turned Tuck's world upside down.

Tucker was on the varsity diving team as a sophomore at a big university in Arizona. Physically, Tuck was perfect for diving. He had always been small for his age, and even at twenty, he was still smaller than many of those on his team or his competitors. He stood just over 5 feet, 5 inches, and his small frame was strong and lean, just like most men in the swimming and diving world. Being so small meant he could turn tighter, faster and with more precision than his larger opponents, and he could enter the water with a smaller splash. All this combined to make him a formidable competitor on the university circuit.

Tucker had been swimming and diving since elementary school. As he got older, he became aware that a number of those competing in his sport did so because they enjoyed being around well-toned young men in skimpy swimwear. Tuck stayed in the sport because he truly enjoyed the activity. He was better at it than most and he enjoyed being in and around the water. As for the intimate extra-curricular activities, he had always been somewhat ambivalent. He knew he was good looking with his white-blonde hair and his smooth, strong body, but he kept his focus on the competition and practices and not on the physical advances which were sometimes not very subtle.

He had met Jon in the second grade. They had hit it off immediately and had been inseparable ever since. Some people, their parents included, considered them brothers. Jon was always the bigger of the two, growing taller and more powerful than his best friend.

Through high school, they had double-dated many times, played in the band together, played on the school's soccer and baseball teams together, did science and math fair's together, and had even worked at the same after-school jobs together. Most summer days would find them at each other's houses, spending the whole day, sometimes several days together. Neither of them had had any serious girlfriends in high school, but they had both dated regularly, had made out with girls in the backseat or on the sofa, and both had even gotten to "third base" a few times. But both boys were serious about their studies, their activities and their futures and didn't really invest a lot of time or energy on girls (much to the dismay of many young ladies in Southern California).

When they graduated, their friendship faced its greatest challenge. Tucker was accepted to a top public university in Arizona on full-ride diving scholarship and a place on one of the top five teams in the country. Jon was accepted to a Midwestern school on a baseball scholarship.

They struggled long and hard with whether or not to accept their scholarships and the thousand miles which would separate them, but in the end, economic realities took over for both families.

They packed up their cars and drove off together, Jon going with Tucker to Arizona to help him move in, then another two days of driving to his school.

At first, everyone thought the friendship might devolve without the regular daily contact, but Jon and Tuck both somehow found a way to make it work. Their friendship was as strong as ever.

All this had been rolling through Tuck's mind for the previous two weeks and continued to plague him at the airport, on the flight, and on the ride in the cab to Jon's house.

Two weeks ago, at the regional diving championships, Tucker's life had changed.

The school had put the team up in a large apartment-like suite for the four-day tournament. The suite had four bedrooms, a couple of bathrooms and a large common area with huge sofas and a big-screen TV.

The team had come home late from the second day of competition tired but exhilarated. Scores for the day were exceptional and they were well-positioned to make a run for the regional title.

As they walked into the suite, all the guys were wearing team t-shirts and warm up pants. Some still had their swimsuits on underneath while others were going commando. It was easier for them to shower back at the room than to fight for limited shower space at the pool when the competition ended and it was a matter pride with them to always wear team gear when in public at a competition.

A couple of the guys headed off to shower or change while the rest got pizzas and began camping out in the common area. As a group, they were very casual and open with each other. They had traveled to dozens of swim meets together and had seen the best and worst of each other both physically and emotionally. They accepted each other and all got along pretty well. They were a team in every sense of the word.

As the evening wore on, they joked and rough-housed a little, but quickly the combination of exhaustion and a little something to eat caught up with them. The lights got turned way down and they ordered a pay-per-view movie.

Tuck was on one of the big couches with three or four other guys. They all nodded off within a few minutes of the movie starting.

Later, perhaps half-way through the movie, Tucker woke up gently. He was lying on his side facing the TV. His head rested on someone's thigh, but it wasn't that which had caused him to stir awake. It was the comfortable warmth of a body pressed up against his back, an arm under his shoulder and wrapped around his chest. The other hand was on his hip. He wasn't sure who it was, but surprisingly, Tucker felt particularly peaceful at that moment. He felt emotionally secure in the strong arms of his teammate. He stirred ever so slightly, letting whoever it was behind him know he was awake and aware and ok with the physical contact.

The person behind him pulled him in a bit tighter and rested his head on Tuck's cheek. Tuck could feel the very slightest hint of stubble and the warm breath on his neck. His emotional calm began to give way to a sense of desire, a yearning for the moment not to end. He felt stirred in a way he hadn't ever felt before. Deep down, he recognized this was how he felt when he was with Jon, particularly at night, when they would be sleeping at each other's house. Tuck would be on the couch or the floor and could hear his friend breathing. At those times, a deep sense of calm and love would wash over him, but here on this sofa with the unknown teammate pressing into his back, he felt something deeper and more primal.

The hand on his hip slipped under the waistband of his warm up pants, but stayed outside the Speedo Tuck was still wearing. The hand wandered up and down his thigh, moving as high as his waist and ribs and down nearly to his knee. Once or twice, a fingertip would just barely brush by the bulge in the swimsuit. Tucker rolled his body slightly, giving his mystery companion better access to his lean torso.

Tuck began to feel his own cock beginning to swell, constrained by the tight spandex of his suit. He was definitely aroused by the gentle touch of his companion. The primal desire was unexpectedly taking control of him. He grabbed the other hand which was pressed motionless against his chest and moved it to one of his nipples, sending an unmistakable signal he was anxious for more.

The hand began to pinch and rub gently at Tuck's chest through the t-shirt. But it wasn't enough. Tuck somehow managed to deftly remove his t-shirt without disturbing the sleeping of the thigh he was resting his head on and also without looking behind him to discover the identity of his mystery lover. The fact he didn't know who it was who was made these powerful feelings surging through his body much more potent. Now the hand had direct access to Tuck's bare chest and tight belly.

Tuck lay back down, shirtless, pressing his small body into the clearly larger, powerful body behind him. The hands continued their exploration of his body. A finger began tracing along the seams of his swimsuit, touching the muscled flesh of his lower belly, skipping slowly over the knot which was tucked in under his suit. It moved up to the point of his hip, then down along the leg opening, moving slowly towards his crotch.

Tuck spread his legs just a little and the fingers continued moving down along the seam, now directly touching the swelling in his suit that he couldn't control. They lingered there for a moment, so very close to his manhood, but still so far away. Tucker wasn't sure what was going to come next, but he was ready for it. His body, largely ignored for so long, rejoiced at the touch of another.

He could feel the breathing behind him get more tense, more purposeful as the excitement rose in both of them. He could also feel the beginnings of an erection pressing against his ass and the slow, rhythmic thrusting of his partner's hips. It was gentle now, but left no doubt where this encounter was likely to end. Tucker gently moved his ass against the swelling he could feel pressing against his ass cheeks, encouraging the inevitable. His partner responded.

The fingers tracing along his suit lightly brushed over the bulge made by Tuck's increasingly hard cock. They moved gently, but unmistakably erotically along the length of his shaft, up to the still-tied knot tucked inside his suit.

Deftly they moved pressed in between the spandex and his skin, tugging the knot undone in a swift and practiced move. But they didn't move further down to his cock. Tuck felt a mild wave of disappointment wash over him. He had been ready for these strong fingers to wrap themselves around a cock which was impressively large for being on such a slight body.

Instead, the fingers moved to his lower back. His lover rolled him forward just a little, and with a quick motion, shoved only the back of his suit down. With his cock remaining tightly wrapped in spandex and his ass exposed, there was no doubt in Tuck's mind what was about to happen. Tuck was surprised to realize he was surrendering to the moment. Here he was, in a semi-dark room with more than a dozen of his friends and teammates, about to be fucked in the ass by one whose identity was still a mystery to him.

The hand moved away from his ass and he could feel his partner tugging his own pants down, freeing his throbbing cock and pressing it against Tuck's ass. His hand came up to Tuck's mouth and finally there was a voice, whispering quietly his ear.

"Suck my fingers. Suck them and cover them with your spit."

Tuck recognized the voice. It was Don Davis, the captain of the team. He was a tall, powerful swimmer with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and an admittedly impressive figure in the showers. Tuck's arousal was complete. Tuck had admired Don from a distance for the past year and half, justifying his admiration as appreciation of skill and leadership and discounting the not-so-subtle masculine eroticism the captain gave off. Tuck always thought the handsome captain was more interested in working with the swimmers and upperclassmen, so this physical dance on the sofa was even more of a surprise.

Tuck took the fingers into his mouth and gave them a generous sucking. He closed his eyes and imagined it wasn't Don's fingers but a more personal part of his anatomy in his mouth. He sucked harder. Don let out a quiet groan.

"Oh, yeah. Get them covered in your spit."

Tuck relaxed his mouth and let Don withdraw his fingers. Don moved his hand back down and began rubbing his slick fingers against Tuck's virgin ass. Tucker closed his eyes and let the new physical sensations wash over him.

Don slid in one finger and then quickly another. Tuck had occasionally heard guys talk about the pain of being fucked in the ass, but he felt just a moment of unusual pressure, then the surprising satisfaction of something being inserted into his ass. He had to admit it felt different, but he knew right away he liked this and wanted more.

Don was quick to oblige. Nearly as fast as they had penetrated him, Don withdrew his fingers and grabbed his own cock, rubbing it up and down, right at the tight bud of Tuck's ass. Don's slick pre-cum smeared on between Tuck's ass cheeks and across the head of Don's impressive cock. Don squeezed his cock a little, pressing the tip of his cock at the waiting entrance to Tuck's ass, finishing the job of preparing the way for his swollen cock.

Tucker felt the pressure of Don's cock pressing against his ass and begin willing him to enter his body. He tried to relax and pressed against Don, helping him overcome the resistance of his sphincter. The tip slid in, stretching Tuck suddenly. The sharp sensation wasn't painful to Tuck, but it was definitely strong. The first part was the most difficult. Once the large head of Don's cock entered him, Tuck's body relented to the inevitable and the rest filled him smoothly.

A deep, long sigh shuddered its way out of Tuck as Don pressed deep into him. He was completely overwhelmed by the new feeling of a large cock in his ass and the physical intimacy of being pressed against Don's smooth swimmer's body. Tuck took Don's other hand and began sucking those fingers. He was overcome with the feeling of being penetrated by Don on both ends and hungrily sucked on him.

Don reached his free hand around to Tuck's now engorged cock, still pressed hard against the spandex of his suit. Tuck wanted desperately to free his own cock, to let it grow and move and be touched without restraint, but Don wouldn't allow it. Don somehow managed to keep Tuck's ass exposed but his cock restrained.

"It will be better this way. Do you trust me, Tucker?"

Tucker found he did. So he sucked on Don's fingers while Don stroked Tuck's cock through his suit and filled his ass with his impressive manhood. Tuck's mind shut down and he let the physical sensations wash over him.

Don's cock slid slowly in and out of Tuck's ass, never pounding or frantic, but deliberate, slow and deep, fucking him more intensely and purely than Tuck had ever thought possible. Tuck was so enraptured by the feelings coming from his mouth, cock and ass that he didn't notice the stifled moaning coming from Don.

Don began pressing deeper into Tuck and Tuck knew Don was about to cum. He wanted it. He wanted to feel Don swell up in his ass and release his load inside. He wanted to be the one to make the captain cum. Two or three deep thrusts and then suddenly Don's body locked and hitched in orgasm. Both of them stopped breathing. Tuck felt the hot fluid inside him and was thrown over the edge himself, cuming in his red competition diving suit. He could feel his warm semen coating his cock, partially trapped by the taut fabric.

He was completely surprised to feel what felt like even more semen against the back of his neck. He reached up with his hand, carefully touching Don's face behind his head and discovered Don was sucking the cock of the person they had been resting their heads on. Cum was running down his chin and getting into Tuck's hair.

Tuck gently wrapped his hand around this slowly relaxing cock and allowed himself to feel another man's cock in his hand for the first time. Tuck started to turn to see who it was.

"Hold still for a second, let me help you out." Don whispered in Tuck's ear. He began licking the semen from the back of Tuck's neck, sending more erotic chills down Tuck's body.

After a moment, Tuck was able to turn his head and saw it was Andy, the senior diving captain who Don had been sucking. "Welcome to the varsity, Tucker. You put on a good show." Andy had a big smile on his face. Tucker had been so wrapped up in the moment he was completely unaware he had been watched.

Andy leaned back against the sofa, sighing contentedly. Tucker turned back toward the TV, still very content with himself and what had just happened. Don's large cock was still in his ass, starting to relax, and Tuck was content to leave it there as long as he could.

"One more thing, Tuck, and then it's off to the showers." Don said. He reached down inside the front of Tuck's suit, touching Tuck's cock with his bare hand for the first time and coating it with Tucker's cum. He pulled his hand out and brought it up to Tucker's mouth one more time. Tucker closed his eyes and licked Don's hand clean.

The three of them stayed there until just before the movie ended. Don's now relaxed cock resting against Tucker's ass, his hand playing softly with Tucker's smooth chest, while Tucker played a little with Andy's relaxed cock.

It was only about five minutes before the movie ended. Don whispered in Tuck's ear he should probably go take a shower and rinse out his suit before the rest of the guys got up and headed for bed.

Tuck began to sit up and Don pulled him back down.

"One more thing. I want you to wear that red suit tomorrow. And when you are walking around in it, I want you to think of how incredibly fine your ass looks in a red Speedo, and how you came in that very suit while I was fucking your ass."

Inevitably, the next day, Tucker could think of little else. He constantly caught Don or Andy looking at him and his thoughts instantly returned to their night on the sofa. He was acutely aware of his ass and cock covered by the thin fabric and more intensely aware of his body on display. Somehow he managed to stay focused while diving, but it took all his concentration and willpower to do so.

He also caught himself looking at his team in a whole new way. He especially noticed the very sensual and masculine way both Don and Andy filled out their suits. He found himself wondering what next.

As it turned out, there was no more 'next' for Tucker at the swim meet. The next night was a team dinner at a restaurant, then early to bed. After they won the competition on the last day, it was a quick awards ceremony, then on the bus to head back to school.

Once they got back to school, Tucker saw little of Andy and even less of Don. Diving practice was mostly individual work with the coaches, and the swim team was on its own schedule. But when he did see them, they would share a knowing glance, a quick appraisal of each other's bodies, and then focus on the task.

He found for himself, it really wasn't about Don or Andy. It slowly dawned on Tucker that the night on the sofa had been something they had done based on hierarchy, power and lust but it had very little to do with him personally. Don and Andy had initiated him into the varsity. At the time, he thought Andy was referring to the dive team, but the more he thought about it, the more he came to realize the varsity had nothing to do with swimming. Tucker found himself openly confronting his own sexual desires. Their tryst on the sofa had unleashed feelings in him he had been completely unaware of or ignoring. He had discovered physical passions that had been completely dormant his whole life. No experience with a woman had ever been so overwhelmingly satisfying. And he thought a lot about Jon.

Now Tucker was heading to Jon's house for a week with his dearest friend and had not the first clue how to discuss any of this with him.

The next two days were the weirdest of Tucker Williams' life. He was of course delighted to see Jon again. They stayed in such close contact during school and had so much common history there really wasn't much need to 'catch up.' But he could not get the experience with Don and Andy out of his mind, nor could he ignore the feelings he was having. But mostly, he realized he must come to grips with how his new understanding of sexuality as it related to Jon.