Episode 1: The Shadow in the Water
Miles POV:
The midsummer heat lay over our town like a heavy blanket – the sun burned down mercilessly, the air shimmered, and the smell of chlorine and sunscreen hung everywhere. Ethan and I had agreed to do another training session at the outdoor pool, our usual routine to stay in shape. He, the passionate swimmer; me, the soccer player who occasionally joined to strengthen my legs. We were both 18, best friends since elementary school, and yet today everything felt different. A tension I couldn’t name hovered in the air like the steam rising from the pool.The outdoor pool was crowded: children splashed and screamed in the shallow area, adults dozed on loungers, and the water glittered invitingly blue under the sky. Ethan was the first to step onto the starting block. His red speedo hugged him tightly, emphasizing his long, muscular legs and narrow waist. I stood beside him, watching him as always – the broad shoulders, the concentrated expression on his face.
He dove – an elegant, powerful forward dive. As he hit the water, the surface tension tugged briefly at his swimsuit, the waistband slipping down just a few centimeters. It wasn’t a dramatic reveal, just a completely natural movement of his body entering the water. For a split second, the top half of his ass came into view – firm, round, smoothly tanned from the sun, the light dark peach fuzz barely visible. The cleft briefly outlined itself before the water sprayed up and covered everything again. The speedo slid back into place as soon as he kicked underwater and surfaced.
I was standing in exactly the right spot, only two meters away. The glimpse was fleeting, almost accidental, but it burned itself into my mind. The perfect shape of his cheeks, the smooth skin, the way the muscles tensed and relaxed as he broke the surface. My pulse raced; a warm tingling spread through my stomach and sank lower. Ethan surfaced, shook the brown hair out of his face, laughed, and waved at me – completely unaware.
“Your turn!” he called, grinning. I jumped in after him, swam my laps, but my thoughts kept circling back to that tiny moment.
After an hour we climbed out, dripping and breathless.
The sun was already drying our skin as we headed to the open-air showers – freestanding columns at the edge of the pool, surrounded by low walls that offered only half-privacy. The place was emptying out; most people had already left, only a few stragglers chatting here and there. Ethan turned on his showerhead and stepped under the stream. The red speedo clung to him like a second skin. Water ran over his shoulders, down his chest, collected in the shallow grooves of his abs – six gentle ridges that flexed with every breath. He soaped himself up, hands gliding over arms, shoulders, chest. Then he hesitated, glanced around quickly. With a shy, almost reluctant movement, he hooked his fingers into the waistband and slowly pulled the speedo down. The wet fabric slid over his hips, dropped to the floor. He kicked it aside and stood completely naked under the spray.
My breath caught. There he was – fully exposed. His cock hung relaxed, uncircumcised, impressively thick and long even soft, the foreskin soft and smooth. His balls round and cleanly shaved. The light dark fuzz in his pubic area was fine and barely noticeable; the peach fuzz on his ass so light it almost disappeared in the water. Water cascaded over his body, making his skin gleam, running in rivulets down his chest, stomach, cock, between his legs.
He turned, soaped his back, showing me his rear – the firm cheeks, the tight muscles, the smooth cleft. He bent slightly to wash his legs, and his cheeks tensed, parting just enough to tease.
My own cock swelled slightly, half-hard, pressing against the fabric of my blue speedo. Shyly, I hooked my fingers into my waistband and slowly pulled it down. It fell to the floor. My cock sprang out half-hard, circumcised, thick and heavy, the head light pink and sensitive in the warm air.
Ethan’s gaze met mine – fleeting, but intense. He didn’t say anything, but as I stepped back under the spray, he smiled – just a tiny, shy curl at the corners of his mouth. I noticed it immediately. My cheeks burned, my heart raced. He had seen it. And he smiled.
Steam rose, making the air damp and warm, chlorine sharp in my nose. The sound of water hitting tile, distant voices, shoes clacking on concrete. Ethan soaped himself further, movements slow, almost deliberate. He turned again, showing me his front fully, water streaming over his cock, making it glisten. His balls drew up slightly in the coolness, smooth and inviting.
The coach called from the far side: “Guys, wrap it up, we’re closing!”
Ethan laughed softly, turned off the water, picked up his speedo, and wrapped a towel around his waist. I did the same, still half-hard beneath the towel. Our eyes met in the mirror on the wall – a long, intense moment. His brown eyes held my blue ones. Heat that had nothing to do with summer.
We left the showers in silence. At the exit he stopped, turned to me, so close I felt his breath on my shoulder. "Let me drive you home!"
