Naked Gymnast Weekend - Pt. 03

An excited charged silence took over the room. All eyes rivetted on Chico's fondling hand, and I thought I was going to have a mini stroke. Chico had totally gone off script and headed things to who knew where.

Coach Dan was by far the oldest in the group, but I knew for a fact he was really only twenty-eight--and being who he was, commanded the room. I held my breath, knowing that our studly, big-biceped, hairy-chested, number one guest could either make it or break it.

He just casually parted his hairy thighs at Chico and reach down to fumble his own overstuffed, practically transparent bikini briefs. "I guess THIS makes you horny, too, then, Chico?" his voice was low and suggestive.

Chico swallowed, eyes transfixed by the sexy display. "Oh yes," he managed, "--it really does, Coach!"

"Oh hell," Coach Dan chuckled. "It's no better n' yours, or anyone else's, man...."

"...I don't know about that," Tony said, staring. "It's gotta be huge!"

"Fuck--we're just GUYS," the Coach smiled, drinking his beer. "We can't get one another pregnant! We're having a little stag, is all--getting off on what the other guy is flaunting!"

He pawed at his chest a little and looked around the room. "--may as well go with the flow--have some fun being a bunch of horny, hung dudes with nothing to do!"

"Wow!" Chico smiled, all teeth. "We could have a game! See who's the biggest!"

Coach Dan shrugged. "Sure--why the hell not? I've done it before...." He drank his beer, then looked at me. "You got a deck of playing cards, Jensen?"

I nodded, big eyes all over his bikini-fondling fingers. "Yeah," I said. "There's a deck right here." I went to the kitchen counter to retrieve the cards.

"Just pull out a 'Nine', 'Ten', 'Jack', 'Queen', 'King', and 'Ace' of anything," he called out.

I did so, my fingers trembling with excitement. "Okay," I said, "you want them shuffled, I guess, huh?" I suddenly needed a real beer—no more water.

"Yeah," Coach Dan smiled at everyone. "So here's how it works, guys...." He parted his beefy, hairy legs suggestively. "Whoever gets the 'Nine' goes first...."

"...um, excuse me? Goes first???" Mark stammered out. "What do you mean, 'Goes FIRST'???"

The Coach shrugged. "He stands in the middle, strips off his shorts, then does whatever it takes to get hard...."

"Holy FUCK!!!" Mark sprayed beer all over the room.

"....and then he has to make sure we all get a real GOOD look at it!" The Coach ignored Wynn and looked around at each of us. "--sound cool to you?"

"Fuckin' A!" Tony grinned over at Chico and me.

"What do you say, Mark?" I shuffled the cards.

The big jock's eyes looked nervously at the playing cards, his face red as a tomato. "Even if I get the 'Nine', I--I don't think I could go first," he said directly to Coach Dan. "I've never done things like this before."

He rotated his bottle around in his fingers. "--never in my life!"

"Okay. Fair enough," Tony said. "Let's all just agree that if you get the 'Nine', we do it over until you get a higher card."

Heads nodded. "No sweat," the Coach said. "The whole point, Wynn, is to have a little fun, is all," he shrugged like it was just a way to pass the time. "I mean, Christ, we're probably gonna end up naked in the hot tub anyway--and we're already admitting we're horny."

"Yeah," Tony said, "Now none of us will be embarrassed about throwing a rod—'cuz we're all gonna!'

"Hand them out, man," Chico grinned. "And I hope I get the 'nine'!"

"I hope you do, too," Tommy smiled a sweet, beery smile at Chico.

It made us all crack up. My crotch was tingling just going around letting everyone take a card. I watched the guys look at their selection, all of them reacting to their fate. Only then did I look at my own.

My heart pounded in my ears. Mine was the 'Nine'!!

Everyone was looking at everyone else, while I set aside my beer bottle filled with water to then open a real one and take a huge gulp for courage.

I walked into the middle of the room to their cheers and shouts.

"You want to watch me get hard through my shorts--or hard with 'em off?" I asked, trying to act casual.

"Off!" Everyone yelled, eyes fixed on my Calvins.

"I'm glad I still have my tan," I said, looking at each of them while flexing my pecs and arms. "We blonds need some color, huh?"

No one spoke--just stared up at my muscled, big-shouldered, gymnast physique and nodded mutely.

I dipped the waistband down with my thumb. "I'm blond all over.... see?" I showed-off my hunky cock bush. "It's the only hair on my body--so I really dig it!"

"Sweet!" Tommy said. "I wish my bush looked like that!"

Again, tension-breaking laughter filled the intimate room.

"And here's my Danish cock," I smiled, really getting into the spirit. And I pushed my briefs down past my low-swinging, blond-furred balls.

Approving sighs hit the air.

"Um, I can't see," Mark said anxiously from his chair.

I turned to him and pulled my Calvins down to my ankles and stepped out of them. Mark's face was beet red as I paraded my fat, big-headed cock before him. "You like it, Wynn?" I asked down at him.

He nodded. "It's big, Jordie," his voice was hushed, awed. "--real big!"

"Uh huh," I said, "And you staring like that is making it even bigger..."

"Holy," Mark said as my eight-inch cock began filling and bobbing.

I turned to Tommy, whose blue eyes stared as if starved. I dug my fingers down into my cockbush and ruffled through the soft curls. "See my sexy bush, Tommy?" I asked quietly. "Go ahead--feel how nice and fluffy it is."

Tommy's small hand trembled as he reached forward. It was difficult to believe that he had actually turned eighteen, so petite and innocent his manner. His little fingers felt sexy as they played in my golden, soft, most-male of hair. He seemed too nervous to actually touch anything else, diving-in to his knuckles, then reluctantly pulling out.

"You're making my cock get all hard, Tommy," I smiled. "Look at it swell over you admiring it."

He almost stopped breathing, his eyes glowing.

I backed up into the room to let everyone watch my fat cock loll around all on its own below its bushy nest. There wasn't a sound as each guy stared at my naked, horny, helmet-headed mancock rising upwards in heartbeats.

"Pose," Coach Dan said.

Whatever inhibitions I started out with disappeared. I felt completely turned-on and horny--lifting my arms to show off my bushy pits while flexing my abs--feeling my skinrocket erect to its full-tilted splendor. It vaulted boldly from my thighs.

"Wow!" Tommy whispered.

I waltzed my hugeness around the room, letting it stiffly dance while flexing my arms and tits. My cock felt too good to be true--preening and pulsing before their appreciative eyes--a throbbing muscle of needy sex. I felt terrific--like I could conquer the world with my big, hard cock!

I'd certainly 'risen' to the occasion. Very glad now that I'd been the one to go first, I slowly walked back to the kitchen counter, rewarding myself by drinking that very welcome beer! Even still, their eyes were fixed on my hugeness.

"So...", I broke the spell. "Who's got the 'Ten' -let's see some more hard cock!"

No one seemed to want to do anything but stare at my own, making me blush in appreciation. But now I really wanted to enjoy the show, everyone getting naked for my own horny pleasure.

Tony got up from his chair, with everyone murmuring in approval that he was next. He smiled and handed me his ten of Clubs. We waited in excited anticipation for what he would do next.

The dark Italian's Calvins were obscenely angular in almost hideous horniness, and his hunky, six-foot, very tanned body reflected the light--mantits gleaming, deeply grooved abs rippling.

Tony then stood and smiled directly at Mark Wynn, who looked back nervously for being singled out—a look of apprehension. Tony confronted him with, "I'm not blond, am I, Mark?" It was more a statement than a question.

The beefy, buzzcut jock shook his head, eyes running from Tony's hunky carved navel, up his ab ridges, across his smooth, sirloin-slabbed pecs, to Tony's shotput-sized delts.

"This is Italian meat inside here," Tony said, tilting his narrow hips out at Mark. "See? --it's already hard."

Mark said nothing, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly, eyes darting as though not allowed the guilty pleasure of actually staring at all Tony had going.

"Give it a feel, man," Tony said, walking two steps closer.

Mark's eyes bulged, looking like he wanted to do nothing more in the whole world, yet wasn't able to make himself do it.

"Come on," Tony said confidentially. "It's just my cock, Mark. What's the big deal, man --you've felt entitled to smack my bare ass enough times...."

Everyone laughed, having had Wynn do the very same to them. Just as quickly, we fell silent, trying to see what he'd do.

Mark took a hurried, large swig of beer. And that in itself--all the beer he'd drunk, gave him the courage to go ahead and reach his hand up. Yet Tony wasn't about to let him retreat quickly, and grabbed Wynn's wrist and plastered his palm all over his bonerized white pouch.

"Oh yeah," Tony said. "Feel my big hard billyclub COCK? You're making it real hot now, Wynn!"

From where I stood, all I could really see was Tony's muscular, round, Calvin-covered ass, and Mark's reddening face. And the seated, big jock's mouth fell open as Tony kept giving him a feel of something very huge and hot--and very turned-on.

Tony then backed away, leaving Mark's hand in mid-air. "Hey, Coach," Tony said, sauntering over to the sofa. "--want to do the 'honors'?"

"Sure," the muscled manstud said. "Love to!" And he brought both hands up to Tony's elastic waistband and pulled it way out and then down.

"Jesus Christ", the Coach said, his face having to back away as Tony's enormously naked, mushroom-headed, thickly-veined cock lurched-out from his studly black bush in horny, happy freedom.

Tony's Calvins were bunched around his muscular, hairy thighs as he showed off his naked, hardon-twitching Italian manmeat. "You like my big, hard cock, Coach?" Tony smiled in a low voice.

"It's a beauty," he looked at its naked majesty, eyes glowing. "--a horny work of art, Tone...."

"Thanks," Tony said, shoving his shorts down, and off his feet. "One-hundred-percent Grade A, Italian MEAT," Tony lanced it out into space with his tilting hips, his sexy cockbush adding to the obscene display.

As much as I'd certainly seen my buddy naked—and horny--I was breathless over his gorgeous body. Like me, Tony was hairless above--his muscles bulging in synchronized perfection--and hairy below. The effect was such that your eyes travelled over his rippling physique to then land on that black forest of cock-adoring bush. His enormous rod pole-vaulted out of that black, hairy nest like a male iron pipe, capped by a head the size of a baby apple.

Tony brandished it, purposely swaying his indignant fuckpole out at his admirers, walking up to each of us, giving us a close-and-personal view of all the naked dick and balls we ever wanted--and then finally sat down.

Everyone seemed to awaken from a trance, while their eyes remained glued to Tony's upthrust boner between his sitting thighs.

As a reward, I brought Tony a genuine, real beer, smiling to myself as everyone's eyes then shifted over to stare at my scything, stiff erection. "So," I said, winking at Tony-- handing him his bottle, then out at the room "--who's got the 'Jack'?"

Mark Wynn looked pained as he stood up. So pained, no one dared cause him any additional discomfort, and seemed to look at him with a mixture of sympathy and expectation.

Now, Mark Wynn was big and built. At five-foot-ten, his hairless body was powerful and beefy. His pecs were meaty, round and mounded, with two, upthrust nipples--looking like an invisible force had squeezed his tits into bee-stung cones. His abs undulated more than rippled--and his waist--though not slim--was sexy as hell because it was hard and flat, yet slightly cushioned instead of ripped.

Sexiest of all to me, was his deep bellybutton, drilled into the middle of his stomach--so deep, I wanted to poke my cockhead into it.

"Oh God," Mark whispered, unable to look any of us in the eye.

His meshed jockstrap looked ready to come apart from the pressure of his up-thrusting cock, straining to hold in what was so eager to be let free. And of course, we'd all seen Mark's big dick--but never Mark with a full-blown erection!

I stared at his amazing twin, bowling ball musclecheeks--encased by the straps of his jock, stretched over the round, hard, pink globes.

In embarrassed nervousness, Mark simply reached down and pulled his stretched pouch open from the side. An audible hush filled the room as his uniquely-thick erection speared into the air, hampered by his binding jock pouch.

"Oh, Jeez," he whispered, realising he really did have to get himself totally nude.

I could see his thick meat poking his belly as he fought the elastic material down his gigantic, peach-fuzzed thighs.

"Oh, NICE!" the Coach admired. "Show that stud cock OFF, Wynn!"

Mark seemed to draw courage from the compliment and put his hands on his hips, flexing his meaty chest while flexing his firm, concave stomach. A deep nest of soft, brown curls gushed deep between his thighs at the base of his amazing dick. And in keeping with the rest of him, Mark's dick was beefy--a throbbing cylinder of erected meat, almost bigger around in girth than it was tall--a piston-shaped chunk with a huge, blunt-nosed head capping it. And down below, his furry balls hugged the fat torpedo like two protective, suede-skinned peaches.

Mark slowly moved around to dutifully show his cock off to admiring gazes. So meaty and muscular, it barely moved--simply punched straight up in the air. And when he came over to me--the only other guy besides himself not sitting--our two cocks brushed together.

"Oh, God," Mark said, looking at them nuzzling.

"You must be proud of that whopper," I said. "I've never seen a cock so big around!"

Mark tried to laugh. "My hand doesn't even do it," he was almost trembling from all this turned-on excitement.

"I'll bet," I answered, wanting nothing more than to wrap even more than my hand around its sexy girth!

Mark's hard, round bare ass rose and tumbled as he made his way back to his chair and quickly sat down to a huge gulp of beer. He looked up to see everyone still admiring his naked, hard cocked display. "Um, who's next?" he asked, his face flushed with pride over having done it.

Chico showed everyone his 'Queen' of Clubs, then got up like a sprung tiger. "See?" he purred happily, "I kept my happy, sweet dick soft inside here," he patted his red Speedo pouch. "It wasn't easy," he added, looking over at Mark's hard cock. "But now I'm really, really horny!" he laughed, hip tossing his full-sized basket out at us.

His small hands came up to ruffle the black fur on his chocolate-toned, standout pecs; then he ran his fingers down over his hair-feathered, ultra-defined abs. He grabbed his Speedo crotch---framing it with spread fingers—and walked over to Coach Dan, showing off his bulging, red basket.

"Here's my pouch, Coach," he said. " And I'm dying to rub it all over your hot tits!"

The Coach sat up high to flex his hairy, big-nippled pec slabs.

Chico's quad-blessed thighs stood out in bold relief as he crouched and then pressed his hot package into the cleft of the Coach's swollen, furry mountains.

"Oh yeah," the Coach muttered. "I can feel your big Latin cock inside, Chico!"

Chico groaned hotly and ran his hands all over the Coach's sexy tits, loving their furry power, lingering a long time over his excited, erected nipples.

Chico backed-up to give everyone else a view of his dark, dark body--short and compact and beautifully-muscled. "We both got hairy tits," Chico said to the Coach, "I like that!"

He pushed the bottom of his tits up with his hands to show off his dark, super-pointy nipples, then suddenly poked a finger into his hair-swirled bellybutton, fucking it lewdly. "Oh man," he sighed, "I love all this sexy showing-off!" And in a kind of smiling ecstasy began tossing his red Speedo, the unmistakable bulges of his basket careening around in the air.

He ran his hands up the backs of his thighs, as if dancing to his own music. "Oh, I'm getting all hard," he smiled. "My cock's so tingly--and so're my balls," he looked down at his tossing pouch. "I'm really getting so horny now, guys!"

"Jesus," Mark said, his thighs opening-and-closing in frustrated need.

"These are my oldest, most favorite Speedos," Chico announced. "See the holes? --see my fat balls trying to poke through?" He laughed merrily. "They can't because they're too BIG!"

He undulated, his hips flinging his heavy pouch all over the place. "They will soon, though," he smirked, and then reached down to dig his finger into one of the frayed parts of the red pouch. And Chico smiled at us, tickling his balls, teasing us.

Suddenly he poked both fingers into the hole and just tore the fabric apart—his half-full, mocha-colored cock falling out, his balls still trapped inside--laughing and throwing his big piece around like a sexy thick chorizo. "I love being a little dude with a huge cock!"

It was so obscene--his Speedo ripped apart--his naked cock flouncing from the tear. The unwieldy thing looked way too large to be slung with such abandon. It hit his brown body with thick, meaty slaps, hardening and aroused--making Chico laugh with horny joy.

Mark's mouth was slack with passion, his eyes trying like hell to keep up with Chico's dancing sausage. The brush-cutted jock was rubbing his naked erection, too turned-on to care who saw him.

Noticing this, Chico backed-up to Mark's chair and bent over at the waist. This gave Mark an eye-level view of Chico's perfect, Speedo-encased ass. "Feel it, Markie," Chico said over his shoulder.

No longer so shy, Mark gave the red-suited buns a firm smack, grinning for the first time all evening. There was nothing he liked better than smacking another stud's ass, and it seemed to revive his usual jock attitude.

"Do it again, man," Chico smiled.

"Awww, SWEET!" Mark smacked the round globes, leaving his hand there for a while. "What a hot ass, Chico," he said getting into it, really feeling it up.

Still bent over, Chico reached both hands behind him, his fingers finding another thin spot in the nylon. "Have a REAL good look at it, Markie!" suddenly ripping the whole seat apart.

Mark's eyes popped at the sight of Chico's lightly-furred, split globes jutting out from shreds of red material.

Chico mooned the sexy spheres out at him. "Now give it another one," he said.

The firm slap resounded in the room, Mark's fingers lingering, feeling the swells of Chico's brown, muscular butt. "God damn!" Mark said. "Hot, sweet ASS, baby!"

Chico rose back up, the red, tattered suit now falling down to the base of his airborne, swollen fuck muscle standing at full-tilted attention. It was pornographic and lewdly large, framed by a nest of soft black bush at the base of his beautifully-muscled, gymnast's torso.

Chico walked the gigantic vein-laced billyclub over to Tommy. It tocked and twitched in an arc before his hips. "I can't seem to take this dumb suit off," he said. "Why don't you help me?"

Tommy's blue eyes turned violet as he raised his delicate hands to fumble with the shredded fabric. It snagged on the flared lip of Chico's fat cockhead, making Tommy's fingers tremble with excitement. "Holy Jeez!" he murmured. "It's--it's SO BIG!"

"Like it?" Chico made it throb, the lights in the room glinting off the bulbous mushroom head, the veiny shaft so tight-skinned, it looked ready to split open.