I had recently lost weight.  In my desire to keep the weight off, I decided to start swimming each morning.  The indoor city pool was right next to where I worked so it was the logical choice.

I enjoyed doing laps each morning and like so many of the guys who regularly swam there, looked pretty good in my Speedo.  The pool was a regulation Olympic size pool and the morning swim had standard divider ropes to create the various lanes for different levels of swimmers.  I usually swam in the middle lane being neither an Olympic-grade lap swimmer, nor a novice at this form of exercise.  Almost every morning, there was a guy who swam in the lane to my left.  He was in better shape than me and a better lap swimmer, but I sure enjoyed scoping him out as he out-paced me on each lap.

I knew his name was Tom.  He was about my height, light brown/blond hair cut close.  He was in excellent shape but not buffed or ripped.  His body was absolutely beautiful.  He was broad in the shoulders and had a narrow waist; what we call on line, “a swimmer’s build.”  He had an easy smile and a gentle laugh that he didn’t use often enough.

While I enjoyed the exercise in the pool, I have to admit I enjoyed the locker room more – for entirely different reasons.

The locker room was standard fare with rows of small lockers facing wooden benches anchored to the painted cement floor.  Along the far wall were private changing rooms used mostly by the men who changed from their swim gear into business suits for work.  I, of course, always used the more open changing area and was glad that most everyone else did as well.

The showers were gang showers.  Individual nozzles jutted out from the wall in evenly spaced order around the large shower room.  Along one wall was a chrome-plated pillar that ran up the wall.  It provided a different shower option; that being two nozzles and a couple of soap dishes attached to the chrome.  As I used this shower as my morning shower before work, I liked the handiness of the small platforms for my soap and shampoo.  I also liked the fact that there were two nozzles at “my” station because when all the individual showers were in use, a guy would need to come and share my spot.  So many times I was paired with a good looking guy and had the chance to share my shower pole up close and almost personal.

I liked that Tom and I had the same workout schedule and I made certain that I showered at the same time he did each morning after our laps.  I loved the sight of him soaping up that gorgeous body.  It always seemed to me though that he spent a little longer than necessary soaping his cock and balls and the crack of his ass.  He had that same light brown hair around his cock and balls and seemed to be about four and a half inches soft.  A beautiful cut cock.  How I wanted to have the chance to see it get hard.  He would soap himself up and make certain that he massaged his ample balls.  Then he would stroke his cock with his soapy hand in what, to me, seemed almost masturbation.  His cock would lengthen at this attention but of course he never aroused himself enough to become fully erect.  Damn.

As it is in