Posing Strap Trio Ch. 02

"None of these dudes would strip down like this if they weren't fuckin' happy with what they had between their legs, man." He whistled out a stream of air. "No amount of bench presses and dumbbell flys're gonna help in THAT department."

"Tell us the truth, man," DJ said, searching Tony's eyes. "Do Juan and I...I mean, you know---" his voice grew kind of tentative, almost shy.

"---do we have what it takes?" Juan filled-in, his voice kind of quiet, nervous.

Tony sipped his coffee, looking out at the lake. Then he shrugged. "I dunno," he muttered at them. "Stand up."

The two nearly toppled their chairs doing so, their cherry red, and red-and-white-striped posing pouches sagging and hefting their weighty equipment in his direction.

"Yup."

The three again burst into hilarious laughter, DJ and Juan wagging their goodies out at each other, their hips tilted, their big thighs corded with muscle. They collapsed into their chairs feeling ripe and full of juice.

"You bastard," DJ said.

"You asked," Tony shrugged, smiling. He stood up, opening his flannel shirt. "So? Do I make it onto the cover of something?"

"Fuck," Juan said. "You've got pecs and biceps dudes could only HOPE for, man."

Tony absently fingered his sex-blessed, cockbush-crested orange pouch. It was so full, every bulge let the whole world know exactly what was crammed inside.

"You dig my shit?" he asked them, fondling his hang, tossing the poser with his hips.

"You dig OURS?!" DJ challenged back, his eyes lidded, staring directly at Tony.

"I don't know what made 'em get married," Tony said then. "You guys've got all I ever wanted." He sat back down. "Cunt in the flesh must be better'n I think."

"Then," DJ announced, standing up to go to the fridge. "Then, here's your first True Confession," he said, pulling out a fresh Coors. His tanned body shimmered with muscle, his gymnast physique a work of art.

"Tell your fuckin' priest---shit, I don't give a shit!---," he handed over two more cans. "---I'm your first gen-u-ine, blue ribbon QUEER," he grinned across the table at Tony. "Cunt doesn't do NOTHIN' for this country boy!"

"Whooooeee!" Juan yelled. "A 'gash' is just a GASH, man! Gimme something to LOOK at!"

DJ and Juan clinked beers, as Tony half-laughed, half-smiled.

"Oh, make me a protestant," he said, looking soulfully up at the ceiling.

"Fuck!" Juan almost shouted. "I felt your hairy pecs all up, man! Hunkiest tits on the fuckin' PLANET!" He stared at Tony---at the big Italian's gigantic nipples. "You've ALREADY done more than you can confess to some kind of priest, dude!"

"Oh, fuck," Tony mumbled. "You're makin' me horny all over again!"

"Oh, yeah?", DJ challenged. "For WHAT, dude?" He got up and threw his big biceps around Juan, his hands squeezing the hot Latino's sculpted, stiffly-nippled pecs. "For pecs, Tone?" He reached down to fondle his striped posing pouch. "For DICK?---for BALLS, baby?"

Tony suddenly rose up, ridding himself of his blue-flannel shirt. "Oh shit, let's do it man!" he said, going into a flexed, full double-biceps pose. "Let's do this hot shit."

DJ headed them all outdoors, the cooling breezes worshipping their muscles, their posing-pouched nakedness. They whooped and hollered. Juan sucked in his abs and flexed his brown chest and arms, the definition dazzling, his wrestler thighs a network of overlapping muscle. His cherry posing pouch thudded out from the gorgeous vee of his crotch. DJ threw his gymnast arms behind him, flexing his tremendous triceps, clasping his hands, making his pecs jump and turn to swollen sex sirens calling out for all to ogle. His nipples pointed out like earplugs, his striped poser so crammed with dick, it swayed in counterpoint to his swivelling hips.

"Oh, man....some ASS!" Tony rubbed his orange sack of sex. "Gimme some ASS!"

The two turned to bounce out and flex their perfect globes. Juan's simply bounded out, the luscious spheres hairless and dark as cocoa.

DJ's melons were split so deep, he had to pry them open to give Tony a really good view.

The bodybuilder Italian's pouch instantly grew angular, thrusting stiffly outward, his trapped cock all hot and throbbing. "I wanna beat off so fuckin' bad!"

"There's more to do than THAT!" DJ teased, jiggling his pouch lewdly. He strutted towards the other two, "Beat MINE off---hell, take hold'a Juan's."

They stood together, their posing straps barely able to hold their hardons inside.

"Lick my giant tits," Tony ordered.

The two fell onto his nipples, tongues lashing his tumescent cones. Tony reached both hands down to pry open their stretched pouches. And soon his hands were full of hot dick and balls.

"Oh, God," he cried at the ripe feelings. "Suck my big pecs---gimme those fat cocks!"

The boys fought with the string around Tony's hips, finally pulling free his jumbo cock. It knifed upward, proud, male, erect, pulsing with heat and new-found lust. In a fevered daze they looked down to smack their stiff timber---to swordfight---to feel their naked hardons joust and collide.

"Oh, suck it!" Tony yelled out into the wind and sun. "Suck my big fuckin' dick!"

DJ suddenly nailed him, his eyes blazing. "Fuck THAT, dude!" he glowered. "You fuckin' suck OURS, you stud-loving, weightliftin' Catholic bastard!"

Tony looked down at their wild-eyed cocks, then back into DJ's fevered eyes.

"Sweet Mary n'Joseph! ---you're turnin' me queer!" he said, falling to his knees on the lawn.

"Fuckin' right!," DJ said, smacking his huge sweet cock against Tony's unshaven jaw. "This....sure....ain't....CUNT!"