How I became a Hard Hat Diver - Part 2

Author: CaptainNemo
Title: How I became a Hard Hat Diver - Continued (Part B)
Date: 18 September 2012

How I became a Hard Hat Diver - Continued (Part B)


Dressing 18-year-old Josh in the Mark V rig was an amazing experience. 140 pounds of lad had to be belted, buckled and bolted into more than 200 pounds of metal and rubber. Meanwhile, Josh’s enthusiasm was infectious, his grinning wide and frequent. Together with Eric I screwed in the nuts on his breastplate. It was also my task to apply his jockstrap. Josh put his rubber gloves on my shoulders to have something to hold on. That gave an instant hardon to me, and his wonderful brown eyes blinked at me over the brass neck ring. When I tightened the strap, pressing his cock down, he laughed out loud. He then told me that he was using an old rubber diving glove as a kind of condom under his suit:

“I pulled the outside in. It feels wonderful with its nubby rubber”, he explained, “and think of all those hard hat students who wore it on their dives. It’s like a cool diver man’s hand grasping me down there.”
“Remember, that kid is not gay”, Eric laughed at me.

Then it was my turn and Eric suited me up again. The rig I was to dive now was of a slightly different British Siebe Gorman type, but provided roughly the same sensations to me like the U.S. model, including the smells which proved to be an important element of my horny preferences.

Josh was sitting there in his gear, holding the Mk V helmet on his lap with a lucky expression, and watched me getting rigged up. Knowing the details of the procedure now, I was through much faster than at the first time this afternoon. Getting practise in that horny drill was something that gave me a deep satisfaction. Before we got our helmets on, Eric made us sitting side by side, posing in classic hero style with the helmets on our knees, for some photos. I watched Josh from the side, and I just couldn’t get enough of this beautiful black-haired lad as he sat there his diving rig. Although I had jerked off twice this day, my bulge was full of pressure again. Josh gave me a very horny moment when he nudged my chin and my cheeks with his rubber gloves, with a mischievous grin over his brass collar. It was so hot that I instantly delivered my first precum of this dive.

“Oh boy”, I moaned, “I don’t wear a sheath any more.”
“Don’t worry, we have a washing machine for the undersuits”, Eric laughed, “you don’t need to hide your most wonderful feelings here.”
“Okay”, I replied, “I think I will have my next wonderful seconds when Josh gets his helmet on!”
“No problem, man”, Josh said, “I can’t imagine anything better than being inside the Mark V. All that heavy metal makes me horny.”

It was actually a marvelous scene to watch his cute, snub-nosed face slowly sliding into the metal helmet. He had a concentrated and focused expression, looking like a real man now.

Instead of climbing the diving ladder, we used the crane with the diving basket for getting into the water this time, just like commercial divers. We were standing in the basket, our faceplates still open, peering at each other’s through our open portholes. Josh’s left hand lay on the chest valve. In his shimmering Mark V rig he made a wonderful sight, while he rubbed his chin on the brass rim of the porthole’s opening. It seemed to me that he tried to increase his horny joy by seeking maximum skin contact with the rugged metal.

Eric finally closed our portholes, our air began to flow and the crane came to life. Our basket was lifted a few inches, swung over to the water, and then we went down very gently. Soon the water swashed over us, and our dive began. I appreciated the cold pressure of the water around me, inhaling the rubber scent. It’s unbelievable, I contemplated, I was now in my second hard hat dive already, together with a beautiful young lad in an amazingly horny diving rig, having found a badass gay helmet diving instructor of my age, who was at least as kinky as me. Some hours ago on the train, I would have judged such a scenario as completely unrealistic.

“Josh is always keen on a hands-on experience”, Eric told me via the phone. “He will be shit lucky if you press your rubber hands against his shoulder joints.”

I could feel Josh’s sleek body in his suit between my hands that way, and I enjoyed his delightful smile behind the metal grills of his porthole. His face, with a delicious skin color and his clear eyes full of excitement, provided a very erotic contrast to the rugged heavy metal he was confined in. My hardon got so massive that I had to calm myself down in order to avoid an instant jerk-off. When our basket stopped on the bottom, I wanted to move away. But the boy remained standing on his position in his partially inflated rig, his eyes closed under his helmet and slightly grinning with a sweet expression. I bopped him, but he didn’t react.

“Josh seems to meditate in his gear”, I reported to Eric, “he doesn’t move.”
“He tries to calm down. He is shortly before shooting his load”, Eric answered, “he fears that any movement or horny sight will make him jerk off immediately.”
I started to giggle inside my helmet: “Why is that a problem for him?”
“He doesn’t really want it now. He wants to spare his cum for a later point of the dive.”
“Tell him he is a MAN”, I said, “so he should have enough juice for two or even three shots per dive!”
“Okay”, Eric laughed, “I’ll try.”

I waited some moments, carefully watching Josh’s face. He seemed to listen to Eric.
It worked like I had expected. The boy suddenly opened his eyes, grasped my right rubber hand and in an instant move he pulled it down to his crotch. I enjoyed how wonderful strong he was. Our faceplates touched with a clank. It took only a few seconds until I sensed his surprising big cock under his jockstrap in my right hand. Without any further communication, he grabbed my cock through my diving suit, and before I could do anything else, we were giving us an ultimate underwater massage. The excitement in his face was incredibly sweet. I saw that he opened his mouth, grasped the brass button of the helmet valve with his lips, and pulled it inwards. His exhaust valve was now closed, so his suit started to inflate, which seemed to be the terminal stimulus he needed. We both experienced an intense heat wave which went through our bodies at the same moment, and then we released our juices. Looking in Josh’s lucky face, I shot my cum with incredible joy, at high pressure, as if it was for the first time in weeks. The boy even performed longer, probably due to the horny rubber glove on his cock. His orgasm still lasted when I was almost done, and he looked like a real man in his helmet while he released his stream.

Some moments after, we kept standing close together. We nudged our shoulders, and I enjoyed that expression of happiness in Josh’s brown eyes.

We then had a quite relaxed part of the dive. On one of the workbenches, Josh showed me how to put together a massive pipe flange using underwater tools. He already was a good underwater worker, having completed his professional diver training some weeks ago as the youngest commercial diver in the region. When it was my turn to put together the flange, I worked so concentrated that I nearly forgot the slight discomfort of all that cold cum in my undersuit.

The erotic part came back to life when Josh turned his chest valve and prompted me to do the same. I got the impression that he had a horny preference for blowing up his suit, something I could understand very good. Partially inflated, he began practicing high jumps in the tank. It was amazing to watch how easy he could jump up in his shimmering heavy rig, coming down again quite slowly. I could also see him laughing. I started to jump as well. It was so much fun that I soon was hard again.

We then inflated our suits to a point that we slowly floated up to the surface, but this time, I kept my air under control. I emerged at the surface just with my helmet, remaining in an upright position. I could have a brief look to Eric, who was tending our air hoses, waving at me. The inflation of my suit pressed my arms in a horizontal position and ballooned my rubber gloves, giving me new rubbery pleasure, while my boots kept my feet down. I remembered that I had often jerked off as a teen when I was fantasizing about exactly this situation. I vented my air and slowly sank back to the bottom, just to repeat the game. It was a quite effortless, relaxing way to become horny. I performed it four or five times, until my cock was pretty stiff.

On the bottom, Josh came over to me and grasped my gloves. He shook and pressed them very tightly, until I could sense his lovely-feeling hands through the rubber. My heartbeat increased, and I started to sweat again. His mischievous grin behind his faceplate made me expecting big fun. I could definitely see the bulge in Josh’s diving suit, with my cock also fully extended. Our next jerk-off couldn’t be too far away.

“Eric, do you know what Josh wants to do with me?”, I wanted to know.
“He asks you if you are ready to shoot your next load now”, Eric answered.
“Tell him that I’m really shortly before!”
“He wants to perform a hand-in-hand blow-up with you. You shall keep his hand under any circumstances. Don’t let it go. Josh needs it for his joy!”
“Okay, I’ll try!”

Moments later, Josh and I floated up, holding our gloved hands, reaching maximum pressure on our cocks. Josh prompted me to take the chin button between the lips, like he did, and to pull it close to keep the air trapped in the suit. I tasted the heavy brass button in my mouth while my suit fully inflated, keeping Josh’s hand clamped. It was so incredibly horny for me that fresh precum prickled out. We ended up both floating on the surface on our backs, spread-eagled and sweating in our fully blown-up suits. Through my rubber glove I could feel Josh’s amorous, steamy hand. I could also sense the vibrations of overwhelming erotic joy that were running through the sleek body of the young diver in his Mark V rig. Another flash of horny fire went through me. We both jerked simultaneously in our rigs, full of pleasure, and then we delivered our next long-lasting streams of cum.

When we had left the water and our helmets were off, I was happy, but completely sweat and really tired. Instead of the tidy hair style he had sported before the dive, Josh’s black hair was also wet from sweat and flatted from the helmet now. To me, he looked even hornier this way in his heavy breastplate. Eric helped us out of our diving rigs, and we cleared up the platform together. Afterwards, I cuddled Josh in his diving underwear, and he was again nudging my cheeks. His cute hands had a smell of rubber, metal and cum on them.

“You may be gay or not, but you are definitely a really cool diver man”, I said to him. The shining in his eyes was marvelous.

Eric came over, putting his hands on our shoulders: “Okay guys, let’s put all that cum-stained clothing away, and then we should take a relaxing shower together. We all have to produce some new juice for tomorrow. We are going to enjoy some long and horny dives in the harbor.”

---

I woke up with the sweet sensation of Eric’s fingers carefully running over my cheek. My eyes still half shut, I moved closer to him, enjoying the warmth, the delicious smell and the tenderness of his sleek body.

“Come on, son”, he said, while I felt the lovely vibrations of his voice, “time to become a diver again.”

After the exciting dives the day before, we had spent the night together without any gear, but delivering another very intense shot of cum at each other’s. Afterwards, I had fallen in a deep, dreamless sleep together with Eric. He was the first man in my life and it was the same the other way round. Being gay was still not too easy those days, in any country. So everything was new and amazing for us, and we both felt a deep happiness, finally having found a like-minded mate and pushing our limits together.
In the bathroom of Eric’s apartment, I spotted a red mark on each of my shoulders, caused by the breastplates of the diving rigs the day before.

“Every hard hat student has this during the first time, son”, Eric explained, petting my back, “it will take you a number of weeks of diving until your shoulder bones and your skin have grown sufficient roughness.”

We both put on clean diving undersuits. No other clothing would be required today.
Eric lived in a small apartment on the first floor above the dive shop. It was located next door to the diving student’s dormitories. He was also the landlord for those of the young students who took their accommodation there during the school trimesters. Like he did with his students every morning, Eric gave me a good breakfast with bacon and eggs. “You need a high supply of proteine to compensate for all that juice you jettison during your dives”, he laughed at me.

Eric and I stepped out into the freshness of a summer morning at the seaside. A motorbike came around the corner and slowly drove past us, a sleek, obviously quite young driver on it. He was wearing a black full-face helmet, a black-and-blue leather racing suit and heavy racing boots. Eric and I watched him simultaneously, full of excitement.

“Horny, eh?” Eric asked me with a wide grin.
“That’s for sure”, I replied, “still an unfulfilled dream of me, driving around in that kind of gear.”

A moment later, the rider turned around and approached us again. Inside the helmet, a young face became partially visible. When he stopped in front of us, he pushed his visor up with his padded racing glove. After a second, I recognized the lovely brown eyes of Josh.

For open water training, the dive school owned a fully equipped working barge, made fast in a gated area of the harbor within a minute’s walk from the diving shop. The boys had told me that the water there was quite clear and up to 45 ft deep. For us, the barge also had the advantage that no spectators would watch us there. We carried our gear over to the barge: a collection of suits, the weights and boots and finally the diving helmets. I joyfully pressed the cold, heavy helmet I was carrying against my chest. Soon I would be confined in it again, walking on the bottom of a sea shore for the first time in my life. When I scratched my chin I could sense the smell of the rugged brass which had rubbed on my hand from the helmet. Sissy people would have judged that as unpleasant, but for me, it was pure masculinity. A diver man’s scent, I thought, feeling my cock slightly stiffening. Eric smiled knowlingly at me, as if he could read my mind.

Meanwhile, Josh had changed his gear, also wearing a diver’s undersuit now. When we had set up the dive site, Josh and I opened our chest zippers completely, and like him, I pulled a black diving glove over my penis. I was instantly getting a full-size hardon, which made Josh giggling. We fastened the gloves with rubber rings. The nubby rubber of the glove palm provided an incredible feeling on my cock’s bell-end. Unlike us, Eric decided explicitly to shoot his juices directly into his overall today:

“During normal school operations as a dive instructor, I could never do that. I want to explore how it feels after multiple shots and over an extended period of diving.”
We all knew that a time full of intense joy was laying ahead us. We looked around at each other’s, everyone with a visible bulge in his undersuit.
“Okay boys, let’s start dressing up now”, Eric said, “I can’t wait any longer!”

Eric and I would be the first pair of divers.

“You choose the gear for us”, he offered me.

For Eric, I selected the Mark V rig, which in my eyes would give the horniest look to this big boy. I decided to dive one of the other 12-bolt-helmets, a Swedish type, combined with a diving suit which consisted of uncoated, pure black heavy duty rubber on the outside as well as on the inside. That suit seemed to have already seen of lot of hard underwater work during its service life. Wriggling myself in, I could smell the legions of young hunks who had released their sweat into that suit, steamed up in their diving helmets, and it provided me with the most intense feel of rubber I had experienced so far. The suit also featured some bicycle tube patches which had been glued on to repair minor leaks. Black rubber gloves were mated permanently to its cuffs using hose clamps with a captive screw. This was a simple and rugged solution for working in cold water. It was absolutely watertight and it looked and felt very horny.

Josh helped us with our brass boots and put our breastplates in place. Then he strapped a depth gauge around my wrist, looking like an over-dimensioned watch made of solid brass. I also got a heavy diver’s knife around my waist, made of solid brass as well. Its massive handle felt very good in my hand, further boosting my feels of masculinity. I was in really good mood. Being among friends sharing exactly the same passions, I didn’t have to hide my physical excitement. I was so hard the whole time that I my movements were really obstructed.

Before we got the clumsy weight belts on, Eric hugged me in my breastplate, putting his Mark V suit arms around me, one around my waist and the other one around my shoulders. That 21-year-old badass diver lad looked so breathtaking lovely in his Mark V breastplate, amorously smiling at me with his magic eyes, his tiny reddish chin beard scratching on his brass neck ring. I felt my heart already hammering again, and my hands sweat in my rubber gloves. My mouth started prickling and I couldn’t stop myself anymore. Seconds later we ended up in an intense deep kiss, clanking our copper collars together, full of pleasure and passion. My rubber glove went through Eric’s short but dense grown hair. Through our suits, we rubbed our bulges at each other’s becoming harder from second to second. The delicious smell of Eric’s skin mixed with the scents of seawater, rubber and heavy metal, and we both made a purring sound when we delivered our precum. It was a rough type of romance, a helmet diver’s love affair.

“Boys, keep you cum for your dive”, Josh laughed at us, “don’t blow all of it before you even got your helmets on!”

Excited like a teenager, I was slowly stepping forward on the bottom of the harbour, holding the air hose in my left hand as Josh had instructed me. In front of me, Eric was walking in his rig, his arms stretched out to maintain balance, with the back of his helmet and his breastplate shining magically and his lifeline floating up above him. The water was darker than in the tank, in a green color, with a visibility of about six to seven yards. It was significantly colder as well. I also sensed the higher water pressure in my ears. This is really my own private moon landing, I thought. A boyhood dream had become true at last.

The bottom was gently falling, so we slowly descended to a greater depth. The luminescent pointer on my depth gauge read nearly 40 feet at the deepest point. This time, I was in a helmet without an automatic valve. From time to time, I had to dump some used air by pressing my head against the exhaust valve button, which was located above my right ear on this helmet. As fresh air came in continuously, I could also control the amount of air in my suit and my buoyancy that way. I had quickly got used to this simple, widely used helmet design.

I absolutely wanted to enjoy an underwater crotch massage again. Eric and I had appointed we would begin with it a considerable time into our dive, to give me the opportunity to familiarize with the suit and the greater depth. But when I watched Eric slowly moving around in his amazing Mark V rig, I got so tingly all over and so keen on enjoying him in his suit, that I didn’t want to wait any longer.

“Josh, my friend”, I talked into the helmet phone, “tell Eric to come over to me. It’s milking time right now!”
“Okay, I’ll sent him to you”, Josh replied, “don’t be too gentle with him. That bloke sometimes needs a rough hand.”

Anyway, we started in a relaxed pace. I took Eric’s horny chest valve and turned his air flow slightly higher. Although we were in a twilight zone, I could see his eyes joyfully lighting up behind his faceplate when his suit inflated, pressing his arms some inches up.
We got into our most convenient positions and pushed our hands under the jockstraps of each other’s until we sensed our bulges. Eric started to give me a very insightful and sensible massage, providing pure pleasure to me. The rubber glove sheath made it more intense than on my earlier dives, especially after it had got lubricated by more precum. I carefully explored the forces I had to apply on Eric, in order to achieve a maximum of joy in his marvelous eyes. Eric knew that I appreciated the sight of his face in the helmet, and he moved as close as possible to his faceplate to please me. Seeing this big boy in his copper helmet working his way to a new orgasm in the twilight of the deep really made me mad.

With our faceplates in contact, we felt a new wave of heat approaching. Eric’s hand increased the pressure on my penis firmly, while my whole body vibrated full of excitement. Through my cock I felt the strength in Eric’s hand and his arm. I could also feel the joy in the soul of that young British diver, his warmth and the love he sent to me, even through all that heavy gear. I had never felt so close to another guy than in that moment. There’s no return now, I suddenly knew, expecting the wonderful hot flash which ran through us only seconds later. We shot an awesome load of cum together, both knowing that it was not only the horny gear alone, but also our new incredible friendship which boosted our passion.

When we slowly moved up the slope again, I felt a deep satisfaction and happiness. My gear was more and more becoming a natural part of me. Eric led me to the pilling wall of the harbour, made of wooden boles. He took his diver’s knife out of its sheath, and started to scratch some dirt and mussels away. Then he scratched his initials into the wood, and I did the same with my knife. This can only be a dream, I contemplated, looking on my rubber glove with its hoseclamp seal and the heavy brass knife in my hand, some algae and suspended particles just crossing my field of view. I was just writing my first declaration of love, in a hard hat rig on the bottom of a coastal sea bay.

“Frank, it’s Josh here”, I suddenly heard in my helmet, “I’m sorry I must call Eric up to the barge for a time. We’ve got an important visitor here. I will send Eric down again right afterwards. Just keep down there and relax a bit.”

Eric nudged my hand before he inflated and slowly floated up to the surface. I watched the awesome sight of the diver’s black shape moving up against the backlight, until he had reached the diving barge. Then I started to walk around on my own, the air hose still in my left hand. I picked up some mussels I wanted to take with me. In some distance to the pilling wall, I discovered the moorings of a number of small boats. Everything was new and exciting for me.

By the time, I had lost my orientation. I suddenly didn’t know the direction back to the diving barge any more. At that point, it didn’t really bother me. I kept walking on slowly, still in good mood.

Suddenly I felt that I couldn’t step any further. My air hose was pulled so tight that I had to turn around. My first thought was that Eric wanted me to come up to the barge, too. I got really shocked when I saw that my lifeline was entangled in a mooring rope. I tried to trace my way back, because I knew this was the standard procedure in that situation. But I just didn’t know anymore the direction I had come from.

I hunkered down, trying to loosen some of those knots which had formed between my air hose and the rope, but I soon recognized it was impossible. On that stiff, heavy rubber hose, the flumsy rope even formed more slings at any movement. Suddenly, my left foot was also entangled. At this moment, I sensed my first approach of panic.

“Josh”, I reported, “I need help. I’ve got stuck in a mooring rope.”

The speaker in my helmet remained silent.

The only way of escape is upwards, I thought, and inflated my suit. In the first few moments, it seemed to work. I slowly floated up, into warmer and brighter water. But I could already feel a dragging force on my left foot. Only for a few seconds, my helmet emerged at the surface, and I could see the barge in a distance. I tried to wave at Josh, seeing Eric sitting on a bench in his rig, the helmet removed, talking to another man. They all gave me a friendly wave back, not understanding what was going on. Moments later, I was dragged under the surface again by the rope around my foot. I let my suit inflate further, but I couldn’t ascend any more. My arms inflated until I couldn’t move them, and at the same time, I noticed that also my helmet had floated up. It was only some inches, but because on this helmet type the exhaust valve was located above the right ear, I couldn’t reach it any more now with my head. I was completely helpless.

“Josh, don’t you hear me?”, I shouted.

Nothing happened. Now I was in real panic. My breath got heavy, and I also felt an unpleasant, growing heat in the helmet, due to the CO2 buildup. Unlike on my blow-ups yesterday, I felt that I really was in danger now. All the wonderful experiences were gone within an instance. Instead of a horny confinement, my helmet was now just a trap that could drown me. I even got ashamed when I imagined that a rescue team pulling my body out later might see that rubber glove in my suit with all that cum.

“Can’t anybody hear me? Help! Still no one of the phone?” I shouted repeatedly, my face covered with cold sweat.
It took several minutes until I finally received an answer.
“What’s up, son?”, Eric asked me.
“I need help. I’m entangled into mooring ropes. I’m stuck ten feet under the surface and I can’t move anymore.”
“Okay, we will help you.”
“Quick please”, I begged.
“Calm down son, Josh will come to you soon. He is just putting his clothes away.”

A couple of minutes later, I could see a skin diver approaching me. He wore just a swimshort, a scuba mask and flippers. Josh was a sleek, fast swimmer. Two or three times he came down to me from the surface, trying to get an overview on the situation, briefly nodding at me. He then disappeared again.

“Josh is returning”, Eric said to me, “seems that you are too deep for him.”
“Why don’t YOU get into the water again?” I argued, “you are fully suited.”
“That’s only our last option. It would be dangerous. I could also entangle my lifeline in your knots before I reach you.”
“Holy shit”, I replied.
“Calm down, son”, Eric said again, “Josh just returns. I will help him putting on his scuba tank. Just wait a few moments.”

After a long distressful wait, Eric came up again:

“Josh is on his way now, son. Let’s hope he can cut you free completely.”

When I saw Josh, he wore a black neoprene suit and had a yellow scuba tank strapped on his back. He gently took my inflated hand to calm me down, before he pulled the helmet valve from the outside. It was an incredible relief for me when my suit slowly deflated and I could move my arms again. I was sinking towards the bottom, something that I didn’t really want any more now, but I knew it was the only way.

I landed in the twilight near the boat moorings, and Josh started to cut my lifeline free from all those rope slings, using a scuba knife. It took him quite a long time, but at last I was free. He took my lifeline and pulled it away from the moorings. Then he started to repair the cut-up mooring rope, which probably held an expensive boat on its position. Meanwhile I was standing there in my rig, having calmed down to some extent. But I still needed a considerable time until I felt better again with still being under water in my gear. When he was done, Josh pointed me in the direction of the barge. I took up my underwater walk. In a safe distance I inflated, supervised by Josh, and slowly floated up.
Climbing up the ladder was difficult for me because I was exhausted. Josh, who had already climbed onto the barge, helped me up, while Eric, in his Mark V breastplate and boots, was tending my lifeline.

The boys removed my helmet and my weights, and led me to a corner near the deckhouse of the barge. A big, full inflated lorry-tire tube lay on the floor.

“Sit down here and relax for some moments”, Josh said to me, still in his neoprene suit.

He helped me sitting down on the floor against the outer wall of the deckhouse, and put the tire tube in my back, giving me a comfortable, laid-back position in my heavy diving gear.

“Is that okay for you?” he asked.
“Of course, man”, I replied, really happy now. My pleasure on the gear and the rubber was returning.

Josh went into the deckhouse to put on dry clothes. Then Eric came over to me in his gear, carrying a second tire tube in his hands, and sat down in his Mark V rig the same way, close to me.

“Shit happens, son”, he said in a serious, but emphatetic way, “do you think you are still okay?”
“I think so”, I replied, holding his bare right hand in my rubber gloves, “I just want to relax some time before going down again.”
“To some extent, it was my fault”, Eric explained, moving his brass boots, “I shouldn’t have left you alone down there.”
“Don’t worry, man. I should have taken my own knife to cut me free”, I replied, my hand on the handle of the knife I had still around my waist.
“The most important thing is that you keep your joy on heavy diving”, Eric said, running his rubbery smelling fingers through my hair. I felt new blood rushing to my cock.
“Of course I will”, I answered, gently nudging his chin with my glove, “Let’s relax for an hour together. But then we should put our helmets on again and return under water. I think I still have a lot of juice, waiting to be released.”
We were sitting there in our suits, silently, enjoying our friendship and the late morning sun.