Swim Jock Novels & Stories

Gabby was beautiful, she was breathtaking and it was annoying how she flaunted it. "Jiro," Stephan shouted, laughing over his voice. "Stop being a pussy and get in the water. It'll help you relax and stop thinking for a moment," Jiro refused to get in the water because he didn't want to get wet and ruin his favorite knitted sweater. So he sat on a log, reading a book. Stephan swam forward like the current of the water had nothing on him. He's such an amazing swimmer. "Jiro, come on, it's fun and helps clear the mind."

Undoubtedly, taking a swim had been the right decision. As I swam in gentle circles, a newfound tranquillity settled over my body and mind. Closing my eyes, I turned my face toward the sky, allowing the sun's warmth to wash over me, melting away any lingering traces of stress or worry. Merely minutes into my solitary aquatic sanctuary, a noise shattered the calm, causing my head to snap up in alarm. I pivoted in the water, my eyes widening in disbelief as I beheld a sight that defied all logic—Jacob Adriano strolling into the pool area.

Tomorrow is the day we leave, meaning today, Lucas, James, and I are doing some last minute shopping. In our group chat yesterday, James was complaining that he didn't have anything to wear. James: Guys, this is so embarrassing. Lucas: How is it possible that you don't own a pair of swim trunks? James: Lucas, when do I ever go swimming? Do I look like a swimmer to you? Shana: He's got a point, he definitely doesn't look like a swimmer.

Chapter 1: Sucking the Quarterback's Dick in the Locker Room Shower Jake was the team manager for the Ridgeview College football team. It was a shit job. He hauled dirty towels, washed stinky jerseys, and restocked the Gatorade cooler. But he never complained. Not once. Because the job came with one perk that made all the nasty laundry worth it. Braden.

Not nearly enough for a comprehensive piece. So on a rainy Tuesday morning, Riley found herself back at Crestwood University, standing outside the aquatic center with her camera and a sense of impending doom. Practice was already underway. She could hear splashing and the echo of a coach's whistle as she pushed through the doors. The team was doing drills. Riley recognized most of them from last week. Marcus, the one who apparently had a shirt problem. The girl with the pink cap, whose name she'd learned was Jenny. A tall lanky swimmer named David who specialized in backstroke.

The water of the outdoor swimming pool on the VIP floor sparkled clearly under the scorching sun, reflecting a calm, silvery light. Within the silence of that private area, which was closed off from public reach, Lucas Moura Blackwood was cutting through the water with strong and constant arm strokes. Each of his strokes radiated the incredible stamina of his mature, muscular body.

And there he was. Jax stood waist-deep in the water, his muscular body glistening, the sun highlighting every ridge of his abs and the powerful lines of his shoulders. No shirt. Just swim trunks that hung low on his hips. He turned as I approached, his dark eyes locking onto me with that same intense, knowing stare from yesterday. A slow, satisfied smile curved his lips. “You came,” he said, voice rough like the sea itself. He waded toward the shore, water sluicing down his tanned skin. “I wasn’t sure if you would. Married women usually talk themselves out of it.”

Jade Smith's Point of View: I can swim. I mean, of course, I can swim I'm a yardie through and through but I still didn't want to be dunked into the water. I would have to deal with my hair sooner than I had planned and I was not looking forward to it. Luckily I wasn't one of the women who wore makeup to the beach so I didn't have to worry about that. So as soon as I realized what he was up to I had a plan. I had to get revenge somehow.

I’d walked to his studio, and wanting to have a peek at his sleeping form, I’d opened the door and stood there, transfixed, mesmerized, completely scandalized, utterly speechless, and one hundred and ninety-nine percent turned on by Seth’s amazing performance with his stick. No pun intended. He had a talent with both sticks. Hockey and the one he was holding that very second. And if I’m so shameless to admit, which I totally am, his dick was impressive. The rumors weren’t false. All that smack talk I’d heard when some girls were discussing the dick sizes, they were true. I remembered thinking, why would they do something like that? It was completely unethical and unfair to the boys. Then I h

“The pool is a good idea, though.” They get changed into their swim shorts—a much less awkward routine, now that they’ve had a few days’ worth of practice—then grab two towels from the bathroom to use to dry off when they get out of the pool. Javan is wearing his navy swim trunks, the ones that show off his thigh tattoo a little bit. Addison follows Javan outside whose towel is slung over his shoulder. “It literally feels the same out here as inside the room,” Addison says, whining. “There’s no difference. Except there’s a little breeze, so if anything, it’s better.”