Chapter Four
Charlie stood beneath the cascading waters of the shower for what seemed like hours. His arrival into Buenos Aires had been so surreal that he was beginning to wonder whether it was all a dream. He wondered how Winston and David were getting on with their assignments, whether they were being thrown in the deep end just as much as he seemed to be
Pulling on a pair of light trousers and a shirt, Charlie opened the door from his bedroom out on to the balcony. He was amazed to see that not only did the balcony span the entire length of their suite of rooms, but also that it contained their own private lap pool. Churning up and down the pool was Smythson. Charlie didn’t want to disturb him, so he quickly stepped back into his bedroom and closed the balcony door. He spent a few minutes checking his emails and sending a message to his parents, before wandering out into the apartment to try to find the dining room.
“Just in here Mr. Stevens,” guided Pablo, decanting some red wine at an impressive dining table.
“Wow! This place is amazing!” said Charlie. “I had no idea that there was a swimming pool out on the balcony!”
“There’s a gym as well if you like it,” interjected Smythson, arriving into the room, his hair still damp, “but I prefer to swim. There’s something almost meditative about swimming laps. Now, how are those steaks looking Pablo?”
Despite Charlie’s apprehensions, Smythson was surprisingly easy company over dinner. He was a good storyteller, but also asked Charlie about his background, his family, his studies and his aspirations for the future.
“More wine Stevens?” asked Smythson, waving the bottle of red wine in Charlie’s general direction.
“Yes please,” nodded Charlie, holding his wine glass out to be filled by Smythson.
“As you can probably tell from my accent, I grew up in Australia,” continued Smythson, carrying on their conversation about school-days. “I was never much of a student, sports were my passion. I played a bit of rugby, but most of my energy went into water polo.”
“Water polo?” asked Charlie, intrigued, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a game of water polo. I promise I won’t make any bad jokes about horses.”
“Well, that’s a smart move to start with,” smiled Smythson. “They say that water polo is the toughest sport in the world and it’s hard to see how anyone could argue otherwise – sprinting up and down the pool while at the same time trying to wrestle away the other team who are doing everything they can to drown you.”
“It sounds a bit violent?” suggested Charlie.
“You’d better believe it!” laughed Smythson. “The general rule is that what happens beneath the water is nobody’s business but yours. If the referee can’t see what you’re doing, then there’s no way that he can call a foul against you.”
“You must have trained a lot?” assumed Charlie.
“Every day,” nodded Smythson, “I guess that’s why I still love to swim. It’s hard to imagine a day going past when I’m not pulling on a pair of speedos and jumping in the water.”
“What else do you miss about water polo?” asked Charlie, trying to clear his mind of the image of Smythson wearing nothing but a pair of speedos.
“I miss my teammates most of all I guess,” shrugged Smythson. “Water polo is a team game. Growing up, I was always part of a team. In college we had a fantastic bunch of guys on the team. We travelled a lot to matches all across the country. We did everything together.”
Smythson lapsed into a comfortable silence, studying the wine in his glass, his mind clearly turning back to the days of his college water polo team and the guys that he formed a close bond with.
“Come on kiddo,” announced Smythson, his attention suddenly back on Charlie, “we’d both better get to bed. We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.
Early the next morning, Charlie was woken early by a polite knock on his door.
“Yes?” said Charlie sleepily, emerging from beneath the comforter.
“Mr. Stevens? Are you awake?” asked Pablo, opening the door enough so that he could see into the room.
“Um… yes, I guess so,” replied Charlie, rubbing his eyes and stretching.
“Mr. Smythson was wondering if you would like to join him for a swim? Breakfast will be served in the work-room, so Mr. Smythson suggested that you might appreciate some exercise before starting work.”
Charlie found it hard to read Pablo, but this didn’t sound like a polite suggestion from Smythson, it sounded like an instruction.
“You know, I don’t think I brought any swimming trunks with me, Pablo,” replied Charlie honestly.
“Mr. Smythson thought that this might be the case – he has sent one of his spare pairs for you to try, I have also brought a pair of mine just in case they were not the right size,” smiled Pablo, seemingly pleased to be able to offer a solution for every situation.
“Okay!” laughed Charlie, realizing that there was no getting out of this one.
Pablo stood patiently at the end of the bed, holding out both swimming trunks. It quickly dawned on Charlie that Pablo had no intention of giving Charlie any privacy for this fashion show. Charlie always slept naked, so he did his best to preserve his dignity by reaching for the nearby bathrobe as he pushed back the covers and got out of bed. Wrapping the robe around himself, Charlie did his best to conceal his morning wood as he grabbed both pairs of swimmers from the smiling Pablo.
“I’ll just take a pee first,” said Charlie, blushing. He closed the bathroom door behind him.
After a long, satisfying piss, Charlie tried on the first pair of swimming trunks. They were dark green speedos. He could immediately feel how tight and revealing they were, but the silky feel of the fabric excited him, the lycra stretched tautly across his ass, cupping his balls and cock firmly.
“Are these yours or Mr. Smythson’s?” asked Charlie, opening the door of the bathroom and presenting himself for Pablo’s appraisal.
“Those are Mr. Smythson’s,” confirmed Pablo. “They suit you very well. Are they comfortable? Are they the right size?”
“I think they're probably a bit small,” replied Charlie, catching a glimpse of himself in the bedroom mirror. “Let me try the other ones on.”
He quickly changed into the second pair of swimming trunks that Pablo had provided, feeling a bit more confident as he opened the door to emerge from the bathroom.
“So these are yours, right?” asked Charlie. Pablo nodded with a smile. They were a white pair of trunks with a slightly wider cut than the first pair. “I think these are a bit more comfortable,” observed Charlie, adjusting the tight lycra fabric into position.
“So, you are ready for swimming now?” asked Pablo.
“I guess so,” nodded Charlie, “Thanks Pablo.”
“Very good,” smiled Pablo happily, “I will see you at breakfast shortly.”