Swim Jock Novels & Stories

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.

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

Austin’s POV She turns in a circle like she’s a planet doing one cyclic turn around the sun, then I see her swim over to my side of the dock. "Come on in. See if you can beat me." "You've already lost, you know?" "I can't lose a war I never fought." "Fine," I grab my water resistant Frogman watch from my backpack and jump in. We'll do cyclic turns and whoever stops first loses. Time is not on anybody's side as it'll be a countdown. Let's see how you hold out."

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.

“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.”

Salty juice dripped, and I licked it off, her touch lingering. Afternoon dragged hot. Sarah suggested a swim. "Pool's perfect today." I changed into my bikini—simple blue, nothing fancy. Downstairs, they waited in swimsuits. Sarah's red one-piece cut high on her hips, showing lots of skin. Mark's trunks hung low, his abs defined, tattoos peeking. We went out back, the water cool under the sun. They swam laps, bodies slicing smooth. I dipped in, floating on my back.

She never believed them. "I'm not sure. I don't believe them. They were werewolves, and I'm sure they were not weak werewolves like us. They could still have lived after getting drowned." River supplied. "But I heard people don't swim there anymore." "Yes. Only low-ranked wolves like us can't swim." River said. "There are a lot of disadvantages to low-ranked wolves. But, I heard the jacuzzi is even better. They said it's shaped with the Pack's name. Is that true?"