I am Dylan and I like to explore my sexuality

I am Dylan and I like to explore my sexuality
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(This story is completely fictional, and any likeness or resemblance to any person or place is completely coincidental.


) The summer going into my freshman year of high school was short lived. Only three weeks after I got out of school, swim practice for the high school team started. I didn't really mind though, if I wasn't at swim practice I would have just been working at my dad's dry cleaning business, and no matter how bad swim practice was, I knew it wouldn't be as bad as pressing and cleaning suits. The J.V. practice started on an early Monday morning, with about 40 groggy headed kids setting on the bleachers in the pool area listening to names being read off.

The groups were separated, for the most part, by the two feeder school in the county, and we were let known quite quickly that out of the 40 of us, the group would be cut in half to make up the team. I laughed quietly to myself when I heard this. Now I'm by no means a braggart, and I'm pretty shy to boot, but if there is one thing I can do, it is swim. While I didn't really have the traditional swimmers build like most of the kids there (I am, and always have been, a lithe Asian kid) I was fast…really fast.

I was only 4'9, and yet once we began our warm up laps, I finished my first 30 2 full minutes before the next guy.

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Long story short I didn't lose a lap the first day, and I could see the coaches laughing to each other at how mad the other kids were getting. By the time we finished, we were all exhausted and slowly getting changed into our street clothes.

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I was one of the last kids to finish getting dressed, and as I was putting my clothes into my duffle bag the coach called to see me in his office.

Despite not having done anything wrong, I was still nervous as hell as I walked into the office. To a short, scrawny little Asian kid, he was a monster.

While in his 50's, coach Wilson was one of these older guys who was hitting the weights every day, and at 6'2 to boot, he was an imposing guy. "Max," he said gruffly, looking over a clipboard.

"We're not going to need you on the J.V. team this year." He said it short and quickly, like it made him uncomfortable, but it cut through me like a knife. "But…wh-why," I choked out, trying to hold back tears. What had I done? Was I too cocky? "Because," he said, "you would be better suited for the varsity team." My eyes opened widely, mouth slightly opened at what he said. Was he serious? I mean, I was just a freshman. "Practice starts at noon tomorrow, don't be late." "I won't sir, th-thanks a lot," was all I could choke out, as I turned out of the small office.

I'm pretty sure I smiled the whole bus ride home. My father works most of the day, being gone before I wake up, and usually not home before I'm asleep. He put's in some long hours at the dry cleaning place, and then goes to his second job as a janitor for our mall.

He was forced to take a second job just to cover the rent on our small apartment, after my mom died in a car crash a few years ago. I tried to stay up that night to let him know about me making the varsity team, but I fell asleep on the couch around 1, and by the time I woke up the next morning he was again already gone. The bus was running late and by the time I got to the school I was already late. Running through the school, I ran into the coach right outside the locker room.

"Chow, come on, " he said, heading into the locker room.


I followed into the room after him hurriedly, the sound of several guys talking, bouncing off the tile floor and walls. "Listen up," coach yelled, silencing the group. "This is Zach Chow, the one I told you about…" he started, going to a speech about the rest of the practice.


While the thought of being on the varsity team hadn't really made me nervous, it was now. The guys in front of me were all at least a solid 5 inches, or more, taller than me, and all staring straight at me, with looks ranging from amused and inquisitive, to those of downright jealousy and skepticism. I shifted my eyes down, to avoid their eyes. I felt like I was standing trial in front of 20 naked judges.

As the coach finished up, he told me to get dressed and in the pool. Most of the guys continued getting dressed while he was speaking, so they followed him out into the pool.

I moved and picked a locker on one of the rows, blocked by another. No one was back there, so I opened a locker and began undressing. The locker room was empty or so I thought. Right as I slipped out of my shirt, I heard the door open, and someone enter quickly. On the other end of the row, I saw someone quickly turn down the row, stopping abruptly as he saw me.

A light went off in his head as he nodded to me. "You're the new kid right? The freshman," he asked picking a locker a couple down from mine. "Uh yea," I said slipping out of my pants. He too was quickly undressing. "That's pretty impressive dude, not everybody can say that," he said riffling through his bag, standing only in his boxers.

This guy, who at this time I had no idea who he was, was about as different looking from me as you could be. He had to be at least 6'3 maybe more, and was more muscular than the average swimmer, his biceps especially. His head was covered by a shaggy mop of red hair.

As he slipped out of his boxers though, and pulled on his speedo, I gasped. Now I had seen plenty of guys naked in the locker room before, but that was middle schoolers, boys.

This was no boy. I had no idea how big this guys dick was but, I knew it was much bigger than mine. Unfortunately, I was one of those guys who helped further the stereotype about Asian guy's dicks. For that reason, I turned my back to him when I pulled on my speedo.

We both finished dressing about the same time, and walked out together. I looked like a toddle next to him. "The name's Gene by the way," he said offering me a hand. "Zach," I said, taking his hand shake. Practice went well, except for the fact that some of the guys I beat in laps didn't take it so well. More than once I got shoved against the side of the pool, or "accidentally" knocked into the pool. When we finished for the day, I proceeded to my locker, hoping secretly Gene would talk to me.

Unfortunately though, he was talking with another guy next to him. This had its up though. While talking, I got to sneak another look at what was hanging between his legs.

I was hypnotized. And that's how most of my days the first few weeks of summer went. I got on a talking basis with a few other people on the team, and gathered that Gene was not only a swimmer, but he was on the basketball team as well, and was pretty damn good at both.

Apparently he had recruitment offers in both sports to some pretty big name schools. He and I had shared a few other conversations since that first day but I spent more time sneaking looks at him naked than we did talking. My whole summer though changed one rainy day in late July. Practice had ended and as I walked outside, a storm had rolled in. It was coming down hard, and the bus stop was out by the road, without any cover to stand under.

I groaned, as I walked out into the rain, my t-shirt and ball shorts did little to keep me dry, and in moments I was drenched to the bone. I reached the bus stop, and as I did, I saw a Mercedes, pull out of the parking lot and onto the road, slowing as it neared me. I apprehensively stepped back as it stopped in front of me and the windows rolled down. "Aye you need a ride," came a voice all too familiar.

"No I'm good man, " I said to him smiling. "Dude get in the fucking car," Gene said laughing. I didn't really need to be told twice, and quickly opened the door and hopped in.

"Wow," I said amazed at the car. It had display screens and wood accents, and leather seats, and a whole lot of things my dad's old clunker didn't. "This is a really nice car," I said, while he just said thanks and shrugged it off. "Where do you live man, " he asked.

I told him the street, and he said no problem, that he just needed to stop by his house first. I told him it was no problem and kept thanking him for driving me. He told me when I got in my place was on his way home, but that was obviously not true.

We headed in the opposite direction, and slightly out of town, onto a back road through some woods. I had honestly never seen a house that big. The thing was huge, and I think I made it obvious when we pulled up. He kind of laughed as he got out of the car. "You can come in," he said, as I noticed I was just setting there awkwardly. I got out of the car, and followed him inside.

Amazed at everything I saw. "Hey do you want a dry shirt or something," he asked, looking in the fridge. "Thanks, but I don't think anything of yours would fit me," I said laughing a little. He joined in too, tossing me a soda out of the fridge.

I opened it and drank it gratefully, not realizing how thirsty I was. I followed him through the house, and to what he told me was his room. I was in disbelief. His "room" was bigger than our whole apartment.

"You can just sit down or whatever," he said, running to the bathroom connected to his room. He didn't bother to shut the door, and I could hear him peeing a few feet away. I looked around the big room, in awe of all of it. I stopped though when I came to his desk. Right next to his laptop, on a stack of other magazine, was a porn magazine.

My eyes locked on, studying the whole image.


Spread over two pages was the image of a girl with her head between the legs of another, her tongue buried deep in the other girls pussy, with her fingers jammed into the girl's ass hole. Honestly, I had never seen a woman naked before that moment.

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We didn't have a computer in my house, so I'd never seen any kind of porn whatsoever. Apparently though, while I was looking at the magazine, I was oblivious to the fact Gene had finished peeing, and was standing behind me. "That's good stuff, ain't it," he said. I could hear the smile on his face, "Oh shit, I'm sorry," I said, jumping as he spoke, and trying to back away.

He laughed, "Like what you saw? Here you can have," he said picking it up and handing it to me. "Ah… ah no I'm good," I said backing up a little bit. "Yea I didn't think so," he said tossing the magazine back on the desk, his voice taking a pointedly sharper turn. "Wha-What," I asked confused. "You know you really shouldn't be so damn obvious when you're looking at someone's dick in the locker room." "I-I…uh I," I was scared out of my mind, heart racing.

How did he see me? "So what's your deal? Never seen one that big? Do I have your little Asian dick beat," he asked, laughing. "I need to leave," I said moving for the door, but he beat me there. With one swipe of his big arms, his hand caught me, and threw me back onto the ground. "No I don't think so, I think we both can get something from this." He locked the door to his room, and stepped towards me, pulling off his shirt and dropping his basketball shorts, reveling he'd gone home commando from practice.

There he was. Standing before me…for ME… to look at, and I was hypnotized again. His body was milky white, which contrasted greatly against the tribal tattoo around his left bicep, and left thigh.

"Seven inches soft, and about nine hard." All this time he was approaching me, and I kept scooting back until I was back against his bed. He stopped when I could scoot back no further, his dick hanging in my face, just inches away from me.

I could smell it, a strong manly smell, that can only be described as the smell of dick. And I loved it. "How many dick's you sucked fag," he asked hands by his side, eyes looking down dominantly at me.

I just shook my head. I knew about as little as sex as one person could. That only seemed to excite him though. "Grab it," he said, a devilish grin on his face. I hesitated, before slowly moving my hand to grab it in the middle, his dick warm in my hand. "Jack it," he said, motioning with his hand when a puzzled look came across my face. I awkwardly pulled back and forth, feeling the veins in his dick as I ran my hand up and down his shaft.

His dick began getting thicker and thicker as I kept going.

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"Now lick the head." MY hand was already slick with the pre cum coming out of his cock head, which was running like a faucet. Relenting, I stuck my tongue out and licked his shiny cock head, the salty taste of pre cum enveloping my tongue. The taste wasn't that bad though.

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"Now you're going to suck it," he said, but I wasn't so sure. "Gene I-," my hesitation was cut short as he grabbed my hair roughly with his hand. I yelped out in pain and as I did, he took the opportunity to jam his dick in my mouth. Besides being extremely veiny, it was also quite thick behind the head, stretching my mouth almost as wide as it could go.

Slowly he began fucking my mouth, threatening to hit the back of my throat with each thrust. "You like that bitch," he said thrusting his hips slowly. "Yea I think you do," he said laughing and looking down. I didn't realize it but my dick was hard as a rock, and I was made aware of it when he toyed at it with his foot through my shorts. He may have started slow, but he didn't stay like that. Gene grabbed me by the ears and picked up pace, fucking my face relentlessly.

My head began to hurt, but I had no idea what was about to happen. He got faster and faster, literally banging my head back against his bed. He kept groaning things like "Oh fuck yea," and "Get ready you little fag." Little did I know. In one swift thrust, Gene slammed all the way into me, his cock sliding down my throat. I panicked as I could no longer breathe.

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I tried to push back but his weight against me was too much. As I choked in distress, he moaned as his cock erupted down my throat. I could feel his cum hitting the back of my throat, as my face started turning red, and the darker. It felt like It was an eternity before he pulled his cock out, covered in his own jizz, and my spit, and I could gasp for breathe. I felt light headed as I coughed and gagged, cum spilling out of my mouth and dripping from my nose.

My face was wet from tears as I panted heavily on the ground. "You're supposed to breath with your nose dumbass," he said with a laugh as he collapsed on his bed. He looked down at me as I whipped my eyes. "Shit you're a mess, go clean yourself up," he said pointing to the bathroom. I nodded sniffling a little bit as I walked to the bathroom and tried to wash my face.

As we rode home in silence, I sat setting in a shirt drenched in my own sweat, spit, and Gene's cum.

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I could tell by the look on his face of what he thought of where I lived when we pulled up to my apartment building, but at that time, I had other things I could be embarrassed about. I stepped out of the car, mumbling a "Thanks," that I sure as hell didn't mean. I began walking to the door, but stopped as he yelled back at me.

"Next time, learn how to suck a dick, and I won't have to fuck you so hard," then driving off. Next time? (Too be continued, I'd appreciate any comments and (helpful) criticism, also If you have any suggestions about plot ideas, feel free to shoot me a PM. )