Naed Gymnast Weeend -

After celebrating things with a fresh round of beers, we lay in one another's arms, the hot tub bubbling--steam rising into the cold October night--great big grins on our satiated faces.

"We're breaking all the rules, huh?" Chico said, finally.

Tony nodded and chuckled. "--all the dumb, jock rules!" He reached out and played with our underwater cocks. "If they could see us now...." he laughed, giving our soft ballbags a squeeze.

"But you know..." I said, "I can't help thinking..."

".... let's NOT think, ok?" Chico said. "--let's get something to eat!"

I reached out and stopped him. "No, wait...I mean, if

we're

breaking all the rules by doing this shit, then hell--we can't be the only ones...."

".... you think?" Tony's eyes searched mine, wondering along with me.

".... like if what you say is true--that you guys see all these hardons springing up in the showers...."

"What?" Chico laughed. "--you think

David Spencer

is fooling around with someone?!"

I shrugged. "--wouldn't shock me."

"Oh, yeah? Like with WHO?" Chico's smile was snow white, his eyes bright with intrigue.

"Mark Wynn!" Tony hooted.

Mark Wynn was the most foul-mouthed jock on our team, always smacking guys on the butt in the shower, making crude accusations.

"No way!" Chico giggled, trying to picture those two together naked.

"I'll bet they're getting it on with

someone

--just probably not with each other...."

"I hate all that hypocrite, two-faced bullshit," Tony said, staring at us. "It's guys like Wynn who make guys like David afraid of being themselves, you know that?"

"We should have a party!" I suddenly leapt up, water sloshing over the edge.

"No! --

seriously

?" Chico's cute face lit up with excitement.

"Sure! Why not? --we've got the whole weekend, right?"

Chico jumped up onto the ledge, hip-tossing his huge cock and balls around, flinging water all over our faces. "A naked, hot tub party!"

Tony grabbed his flexing thighs, pulling him back down. "Hey! Get a grip, huh? You know THEM! They're not gonna...."

"... if we invite the right guys, it

could

get interesting, though," I gave Chico's submerged dong a horny tug.

He grinned and chuckled. "I know who I'D invite!" He looked back-and-forth between us. "Coach DAN!"

Tony scoffed. "He'd NEVER come in a million years, Chico, you dreamer!"

"I'm not this, what-you-call-it... a 'dreamer'!" Chico's eyes flashed Latin fire. "He WOULD come! He has many party photos on his wall!" He punched Tony's big bicep wetly.

"That's true, Tone--he and his jock friends toasting the camera, looking bombed?"

".... but we aren't exactly his buddies, now are we?" Tony countered. "Yet, if we keep it small...."

"I say six, total--including us," I looked across the hot tub. "--six in here is perfect. Seven's too many."

"Getting the Coach here is the main thing," Tony said, his tongue falling out lewdly. "He's so fucking hot, man...."

"Who would you invite, Chico...

besides

Coach Dan?"

Chico gave me a foxy smile. "Tommy," he said right away. "I'd pick Tommy!"

Tony nearly spit out his beer. "Tommy, the Equipment Boy? - he can't be more than sixteen or seventeen. He's still in high school."

"No, no! He told me he had to repeat a grade and is eighteen. He only looks and acts real young - and that's what makes him so cute!" Chico smiled.

"--and more than THAT...." Chico paused dramatically.

".... What?" Tony and I searched his big eyes.

"...Coach Dan always has him near him," Chico said. "I've watched them. They're like THIS...." he put two fingers together.

"You lie!" Tony scoffed.

I stared at Chico, then nodded. "It's true that Tommy's about the only person Coach has inside his office...."

"He's not my choice, really. There are so many on the team hotter than he is," Chico said. "--but if Tommy comes, Coach will definitely come, too,"

".... things could get VERY interesting in the ol' hot tub!" Tony dove his hand back down to feel up my cock and balls.

I chuckled at Tony's fondling fingers. "Okay, then...that's two. Now we need a third...."

"Who would YOU like?" Chico asked me.

I looked at him, then at Tony. "You're gonna kill me for saying this..."

Tony punched my bicep. "So,

who

already? C'mon...!"

I looked at Chico apologetically. "Mark Wynn," I said lamely.

"Wha-a-a-a-a-t?" Chico stared at me.

"Joker - you've had too many beers!" Tony laughed.

I took a new swig, waiting out their theatrics. "I want to see him lose that jock attitude," I said. "And at a party with the Coach? ESPECIALLY if Coach and Tommy are getting friendly? Hell..." I snorted. "...I'd like to see his face if

that

starts happening!"

"You want to see Mark get all hot and horny, don't you?" Chico grinned.

"I want to see him show his true colors," I smiled grimly. "He's hiding something--smacking butt and bullying guys like David for a reason...."

Tony smiled a little. "I'd LOVE to see that big fucker get his!"

"Wow!" Chico said. "This is getting

in-ter-es-ting

!"

"Now look," I said, "--we three should stick to having say, two beers each. I'll fill our bottles with water after that, so we look like we're getting bombed along with them."

"Yes! That way we'll be able to push things in the right direction," Tony said.

"I just hope Mark doesn't start getting rough or something," Chico sipped his beer.

"Coach Dan'll nail the bastard if he does," Tony said. "--or I fuckin' will!"

"Okay, good," I announced. "It's settled. And now all we have to do is make the phone calls!" I raised my bottle, and we all drank a toast to our plans.

And as I hoped, all of them said they'd show up--especially Mark--who kept asking me if I were serious. It seemed he rarely got invited out anywhere, which came as no huge surprise.

And once I'd finally hung up the phone--yelling 'YES!' when Coach Dan said he'd come--I suddenly realised I was sitting there alone. And then when I found Tony and Chico in the spare bedroom--sprawled out together naked and snoring away--I decided to call it a day, too, and was pretty quickly naked and snoring, right along with them.

* * * * * *

Interestingly--certainly to Tony and Chico and me--Coach Dan and Tommy arrived together in the Coach's Jeep. With Mark Wynn already in the cabin, we couldn't comment on how chummy the two of them seemed as they came up the driveway. In fact, all Chico and Tony could really do from then on is throw me meaningful looks.

Coach Dan sat with Tommy on the sofa in front of the front window and everyone began talking gymnastics. I kept busy, playing the host, and watching how everyone was integrating.

The 'wild card' in our little party was Mark. And sure enough, in Coach Dan's presence, Mark's usual jock attitude withered. It was interesting to see him try to find a place to fit in.

Mark is a masculine, brush-cutted, dark-blond--a beefy-chested, big-shouldered guy--who either dominates everything, or, failing that possibility, simply says nothing at all. And he sat in the armchair drinking his beer as if he needed it, while his green eyes kept envying everyone else's relaxed sociability. And mostly, his gaze drifted from the Coach to Tommy, and back again. He seemed envious that the much-younger 'equipment boy' was so quietly self-assured, sitting right beside the stud-built, ultra-masculine Coach.

Personally, I was pleased at how physically relaxed the group became, aside from Mark. The Coach spread his arms out over the top of the sofa, his hand drifting down to brush Tommy's shoulder. And it wasn't long before I was handing out beer number three, while making sure Chico and Tony received only water in theirs.

Chico winked at me when he took a swig. He was appointed to be the one to push things ever-so-slightly in the right direction once everyone began loosening-up. And being the shortest, and therefore the least noticeable, Chico was still the most sexually sensual guy I knew. His dick was so oversized for his height, his beautifully muscled body seemed ruled by it.

So, when Chico saw Coach Dan stretching his arms out on the sofa, he 'upped-the-ante' by leaning back in his plain wooden chair.

We traded smiles, because with anyone else, it would have been a pretty casual thing to do. But for someone with an obvious package like Chico's, it was unmistakeable. Tony and I convinced the little giant to wear his threadbare red Speedos under his jeans, and the skimpy suit shaped Chico's equipment into a grapefruit-sized mound.

With his feet stretched-out, Chico leaned the chair back on two legs, and even as the Coach yacked-on about sports to Tony and Mark, his eyes drifted over Chico's out-there bulge. Chico merely tipped his water-filled beer bottle back, as if he weren't aware.

The temperature in the cabin began rising. And with everyone else guzzling their third beer, Tony began undoing some buttons on his denim shirt. We decided he shouldn't wear an undershirt, and Tony's sexy pectoral divide was clearly exposed. And this also seemed to grab Mark's attention.

Tony had to stifle a smile when he saw Mark's eyes first sneak a peek at his chest, only to then land on Chico's crotch mound. Mark coughed a bit, glancing down at the floor, while absently spreading his legs, trying to quickly re-adjust his cramped-up jeans.

In any other situation, all this would have gone unnoticed--but Tony, Chico and I were orchestrating the whole sexy scene. And for my part, I decided to leave my jean button open after taking a pee.

There came a natural lull in the conversation because, by this time, everyone was reduced to talking about golf of all things. No one seemed keen on going for beer number four. And with three in their systems, eyes were straying all over the place.

I saw Tommy glancing at my opened jean button. The Coach seemed unable to keep his eyes off Chico's bulging crotch, and Mark was furtively looking at each of our muscular bodies, not sure where things were heading.

"Maybe I should open the door," I said, always the perfect host. "It's getting too hot in here, huh?"

That was Tony's cue. "Call me nuts or something," he said, smiling and shrugging, "--but does anyone else feel like going for a

swim

?" He pulled at his shirt. "I'm beginning to get sweaty!"

And

that

was Chico's cue. "Are you crazy, Rosario?" he dramatized, "--number one, it's pitch dark out there," he nodded towards the lake. "And number two, it's in the middle of OCTOBER." He made a point of grabbing his crotch, protectively. "We'd all freeze to death!"

Coach Dan chuckled a little, his eyes on Chico's bulge-clutching fingers. "Didn't you say something about a hot tub, Jordan?" he looked over at me.

I nodded from the kitchen counter. "It's out back and ready to go." I glanced at Tony, who smiled and gave a little nod.

The Coach stood up, his six-foot-two body commanding in its strength and size. He deliberately began undoing his belt. "Well, hell then, Chico," he said. "Why worry about it? The lake will sober us up some--and the hot tub'll feel great after!"

Eager to take the Coach's lead, Tommy was on his feet, unbuttoning his flannel shirt and pulling it off. "Um, I didn't bring a suit," he whispered to the Coach.

"Me either," Mark Wynn glanced uncomfortably at everyone suddenly undressing.

"So what? Nor do I, Wynn," Coach shrugged, "Who cares? It's night!"

"Hell," I said casually. "We're totally the only ones on the whole lake. Everyone's closed their cottages down for the season."

Chico dropped his pants, his worn-out red Speedo pouch so frayed and stuffed with sex, it thudded heavily, sagging lewdly between his furry, muscular thighs. He quickly got rid of his T-shirt.

"Jesus Christ," the Coach said. "What've you got

in

there, Chico??"

"--whatever it is, it's gonna rip through any minute," Tony laughed, playing the game, upping the ante.

"Shut up!" Chico said in mock indignation. "It's not my fault I'm hung!"

"Wow," Tommy said in his high-pitched, high school senior voice. "—looks like ALL of you are big down there!"

Coach Dan was now shirtless, folding his jeans, wearing only a pair of white bikini briefs. The pouch was jam-packed with dick and balls, dark pubic bush poking from the out-stretched top. The fabric translucently revealed the pressed-out shape of a beautiful, huge cockhead and the weight of all the Coach had hanging turned his pair of briefs into a bulging thong, impossible for anyone

not

to stare at.

"If you got it, boys, flaunt it," he said proudly. "We all work hard for bodies like these." His eyes lingered over all the solid, athletic, gymnast torsos flexing in the little cabin's soft lamplight.

Mark seemed the most flustered and embarrassed, sporting an old frayed jockstrap. I also noticed that of all of us, he was the one beginning to show signs of getting turned-on. The hefty meshed pouch was slightly angular.

Tony wore Calvins, as did I, while Tommy wore jockeys and stood rather relaxed beside the Coach. Not a gymnast, his body lacked the power of the rest of ours. But making up for it was his knockout chest. Two big-nippled cones speared from the centers of his mounded tits in perky, aroused distension. It was the only indicator that the nicely muscled 18-yr old was excited by all the very muscular gymnast bodies in the room.

Most teens his age had nothing special to look at while standing in their briefs. Tommy's, though, hugged his slim waist like a second skin. That's because the pouch was being pulled down by a fist-sized bundle of impressive equipment.

But for my money it was Chico and Tony who still made my heart pound. As sexy as the Coach was, with his furry, hunky, knockout pecs and enormous arms and delts, my mouth watered the second I saw Chico's red Speedo and Tony's big-cocked Calvins.

To my delight, I saw my best buddies staring back at my own physique and bulging pouch.

"I guess I should lead the way," I said, filling the charged silence. "The yard slopes down to the dock, and the grass might be slippery from the dew." I looked at all the muscular flesh, feeling the raw power of it. "Do you want me to hand out some towels?"

It was Mark Wynn who unexpectedly stalled things. "Look," he said. "--are we

really

gonna go swim in the LAKE?" He spoke to the Coach, as if appealing to an adult's sensibility. "It's pitch dark out there!" he muttered.

We were already lined-up, with me opening the front door. Frosty air gushed into the room through the screen, a frigid foretaste of what was in store. Beyond the porchlight was a sea of black.

Coach Dan scratched his unshaven jaw, looking out at the swallowing, October night, the truly arctic air suddenly washing over his bikini brief-clad, naked body. "I guess we could think about it over another beer," he smiled at each of us. "It might take a little more 'liquid courage'!"

Everyone seemed to sigh in relief and move away from the cold. Breathy laughs filled the warm cabin.

"Close that DOOR!" Tony yelled, while throwing me a private smile. And suddenly we were all about to sit around again--only this time practically buckass!

Everyone's relaxation level seemed challenged by Mark Wynn's uptightness. The beefy-chested, thick necked jock didn't know where to keep his eyes focused as everyone resumed their seats. Everywhere he looked there was bare, sexy muscle on display, and his cheeks were burning in response.

"Well," I began babbling away, opening beers like crazy, "--it's not as 'spooky' as it looks out there," I chatted out at them. "Tony and Chico and I tested it out last night!"

They shot me warning looks, as if I shouldn't have revealed that information.

"--you three are, um, buddies?" the Coach stared at my swaying pouch as I walked towards the sofa with his brew.

"Of course," Tony rescued me. He casually shrugged. "We've always helped each other perfect our routines and shit."

The Coach's eyes lingered over Tony's tanned, big-pec'd, big-biceped physique and then down at his snow-white pouch.

Chico laughed at the Coach, wanting to keep the conversation from drying up. "Those two want to try doing floor stuff," he scoffed.

All eyes rivetted on Chico's dark, hair-sprinkled, big-nippled tits and the out-there, almost-obscene display of his threadbare, red Speedo. I swear I could see some ball skin leaking out a fraying hole!

"It'll kill your lower back," Coach Dan said, tearing his eyes away and looking at Tony and me. "Guys like Chico--and Tommy, if he ever decides to try it--are....", his eyes drifted back to Chico's tightly muscled body. "--well, they're better 'equipped'--lower to the floor," he said slowly, distracted by the little athlete's raunchy display.

"Excuse me," Mark muttered, getting up rather quickly to head for the bathroom.

Tony got up from his chair. "I'm not THAT tall, Coach," he said, planting his entire six-foot physique squarely in the middle of the room.

The Coach's eyes really gave Tony's muscled build a long, careful examination. "You aren't just tall, Rosario," he stared. "--you're big. Big

everywhere

," eyes planted on Tony's heavy-pouched Calvins.

Tony laughed, giving his basket a healthy feel. "Gee, thanks, Coach! Coming from you, that's a

real

compliment!"

"Hell," Coach Dan said, "I don't know what it is about this sport, but Jesus Christ," he looked at Tony's male bulge, then at Chico's Speedo, then at my briefs, "--it sure seems to attract guys with big dicks!"

Just then Mark walked back in, futilely trying to use his beer bottle to disguise the fact that he was throwing a rod. All eyes landed on his telltale jockstrap. His lips trembled as he quickly sat in the armchair. And I thought

I

had a blushing problem? His face was scarlet!

It was totally obvious that the big jock was suffering as Tony stood before him--hands on hips--his weighty pouch at eye level.

Chico and I traded worried looks. If Mark remained this uptight, the whole party would cave in, and we'd end up talking about nothing but sports--or worse, start yacking about chicks!

"--Coach was just saying how everyone on our team seems unusually 'gifted' in the 'dick department'," Tony looked at Mark.

An anxious thrill went up my spine thinking Tony was pushing things too far.

"Yeah," Coach Dan said, chuckling. "And you're no exception, Wynn!"

"You've got a BIG one!" Tommy's high-pitched, quiet voice was getting even more high-pitched.

Everyone laughed, with even Mark giving an embarrassed smile at the compliment. "Well, it seems to want to get even bigger tonight," he muttered, swilling down his beer.

"Hell," the Coach said, shrugging. "When it comes to being horny, I say it's just stupid to ty and put the brakes on it."

He leaned further back in the sofa. "Either I'm totally blind, here, or I'd say we're ALL starting to get randy!"

Mark's green eyes widened. He drank nearly half his beer in one swallow. "I get so embarrassed," he confessed. "I get horny at the worst times!"

"Well, this sure the fuck ain't

one

of 'em, Wynn," the Coach countered. "If there were chicks here--well, that's a whole different ballgame, huh?" He ran a large hand over his huge, hairy muscle tits. "But hell, we're just a bunch of guys proud of what we got!"

Tony smiled, threw me a thumbs up and sat back down, looking at the Coach.

It appeared that the fourth beer was the charm--the catalyst we'd been counting on. Everyone was more uninhibited by the minute, which certainly did include Chico!

The small, muscular Latino patted his Speedo affectionately. "I really LIKE my dick and balls," he announced to the whole cabin. "I like them a LOT! I look at them every chance I get," he added, with his South American accent making him sound so innocent and cute. "I guess that's why I like seeing what other guys've got!" He hefted up his weighty package. "It makes me real horny!"