A gay story: Naked Gymnast Weekend – Pt. 04 “Naked Gymnast Weekend” – Part Four
I heard splashing and sexy taunts, deciding to play host and open a new set of beers, my cock flopping as I used a cloth to wipe all the cum I could find off everything. And trust me, there was a lot. Standing back up, I looked down at my dazed, dripping dickhead, not fully believing what had just happened–that only a few minutes ago, I was pumping my meat while watching the Coach suck Mark Wynn off!
My Catholic parents’ rustic cabin by the lake just held six naked gymnasts brandishing huge hardons at each other, including our hairy-chested, cock-proud Coach. And now they were whooping it up in our hot tub, still naked and even more turned-on.
“Get out here, Jensen!” Coach Dan yelled.
“Yeah! Show us your stud body, man,” Mark Wynn crowed.
I couldn’t quite clutch the six bottles, so put them on a tray. And far from quelling my horniness, the fact that I’d just blown a huge load only seemed to make my cock more alive than ever. It began seriously chubbing from their sexy catcalls alone.
“All RIGHT!” Mark cheered. “More beer!”
They were all sitting on the tub’s edge–feet kicking in the water–legs spread open, cocks spearing out at me, watching mine dance around half-full as I maneuvered my way around to the stairs lifting the tray.
Tommy had his arm flung over Coach’s husky thigh, hand toying with the muscleman’s fat furry balls, and, like Mark Wynn, no longer as shy. And the blue-green glow and steam made their up-thrusting cocks look gigantic and mysterious–like they were rising from the mist.
I sauntered down the steps and waded down into the tub, giving them a lewd display of my Danish cock and balls.
“Thanks,” Chico smiled sexily, taking a bottle from the tray, spreading his manly thighs further to treat me to a one man show of his disproportionately-large tool.
“No problem,” I grinned back, thrilling over it and his brown, hairy pecs and beautifully muscled body. Everything he had turned me on–especially his huge, plantain-sized rod and fat balls.
Mark Wynn’s forearm-thick, meaty, blunt-nosed, blond-bushed crowbar thudded out at me like a dare. Now rightfully proud–the initiation in the cabin had brought back a brand-new self-confidence. “Have a feel if you want,” he said, spreading his fleecy thighs.
I instead took an ice-cold beer and devilishly touched his thin-skinned ballbag. “Jesus!” he shuddered, the skin puckering-up.
“You know, you’ve changed,” I confided quietly, handing him his bottle.
“Oh?” he looked momentarily wary.
“I like THIS Mark Wynn way, way better, man,” I winked at him and thudded my big, hard cock against his submerged calf.
“Wow,” he smiled. “You’re real big down there!”
I reached between his blond-furred thighs and gave his thick, rigid badboy a squeeze. It was amazingly thick around and pulsed hotly in my grip. “Mine’s not as fat and tough as THIS beauty!” I admired, before moving on.
“–you going to feel me up, too?” Tommy asked, his pug-nosed face flushed and shy. I looked at the brown-puffy hair pillowing at the base of his super-hard cock. I wanted to tie a big bow around his brand-new teen trophy of manhood. Perfectly shaped, the ivory shaft gleamed in the light, the satiny head ripe and rosy. Two egg-sized, fuzz-covered balls hugged the base protectively.
Raising the tray, I leaned-in and planted a sweet kiss on the open-mouthed crown. It felt hot against my lips. “Ooooh,” Tommy breathed-out, feeling it throb in response. “You’re real good to me, Jordan!” he whispered.
“You’re no kid, Tom,” I said, handing over his beer. “That’s a man’s stud cock you’ve got there—plus, we’re only a few years your senior, you know.”
“You–you turn me on, Jordie,” Tommy blushed hotly. “You turn me on a LOT! Thanks for kissing my DICK!” he whispered.
“You want to kiss mine later on?” I whispered back, oblivious to everyone else, drinking in his deep blue eyes.
“Yeah!” he squeezed his thighs at the invitation. “You’d let me?”
I rode my wet hardon up his calf. “You can do whatever you want with it,” I winked. “You’re a sexy dude, Tom.”
Our gaze lingered until the Coach spread his thunder-thick thighs for me, showing off all he had going. “Great party,” he said in his deep, low voice when I moved before him.
“Jesus,” I murmured, eye level with what had to be the biggest, fattest, tallest, vein-roped cock ever. The head glowed and preened under my gaze, the big-lipped crown so flanged, it looked carved. This only made the perpetually aroused head all the more manly–a knob the size of an orange, the hole a gaping ‘O’ of erotic delights.
Coach Dan made his inner muscles bob the whole, hefty log out at me. Piles of thick black hair wafted around the base, leading my eyes down to his sack of hairy peaches.
“You like ’em? –my fat balls?” watching my eyes shine.
The skin was brown and generous, ropey folds of it hanging like hair-sprinkled drapery from his giant cock, and my awe over them made the Coach push his hips forward till the big sacs tumbled over the edge of the tub. His gigantic balls hung in heavy suspension.
“Jesus, Coach,” I repeated, reaching out my palm and coming up under them.
Their hugeness tumbled over the sides, unable to be contained. I then brought my hand up the back of the rich cords, feeling the sexy fold of endless soft skin–and pulled. “Oh yeah,” he husked. “You know how to do it, Jensen!”
I pulled again, encircling my fingers around the whole, upper hang, stretching the skin down to cluster those sexy twin goose eggs. I wagged the giant orbs about–marvelling over how hunky they were–and then I yanked them, watching his massive cock lever downwards at me, indignant over being forced to be anything but proud and erect.
I leaned in and rubbed my lips over the satiny, fat head, which stretched in reply and oozed glistening cock honey. “God DAMN, Jensen!” the Coach husked in appreciation, taking the tray away.
Saliva flooded my mouth, and my lips had to expand completely as I tested my mouth’s ability to handle a cock that size. And when his thick flange pushed past my lips, I pulled back a little to toy with the resistance and felt it slide against the roof of my mouth.
The whole, peach-sized head flattened my tongue, bulged my cheeks as I tried to take him in. And I felt the muscular rigidity of the underside massage my tongue as the colossal head nudged my tonsils.
Angling my neck, to avoid hitting my teeth, water came to my eyes, my lips aching to try and handle the girth of a cock too huge to be human! Yet still I pushed down, his satiny crown entering my throat.
“Oh, fuck, Jensen!” the Coach hissed. “Fuck!”
I breathed through my nose as I willed my throat to relax–my hands pulling on his huge balls while I snorted and suddenly dove down more to feel his entire billyclub navigate its way and nearly enter my gullet. My gag reflex kicked in bigtime, me willing myself to relax and angle my neck even more to make somehow possible.
Cheers hit the air when my chin brushed his cockbush–when my scalp rode against his abs–when the whole of my straining guts were filled with Coach Dan’s Monster Cock!
“Fuck! He DID it!” I heard Tony yell.
Coach Dan groaned–his battering ram expanding my lips even more–and then I bobbed a bit, trying to massage the thing with my throat while calming my gag impulses, oceans of saliva aiding my effort–as the pulsing whopper slid in-and-out against my tongue and aching lips.
“Oh Christ–don’t stop, don’t stop…” he moaned as I let the head out with a loud, wet ‘pop’.
No way it could go on. My hand released his balls, his giant cock thwacking his furry abs–looking steamy and horny as hell–and I swallowed, my eyes glazing as I stared at what I’d just taken inside. “Too much,” I croaked, “–too fucking much, Coach!”
I could see the peripheral blur of fisting hands as the four others pumped their cocks, hoping to watch me go back for more. “God, but you’ve got a hot mouth!” the Coach’s eyes smouldered down at me. “I almost shot.”
“I’d have drowned,” I husked through watering eyes, my throat spasming in the aftermath. Reaching for a beer of my own, I needed its soothing coolness, and thrilled at the wanton scene of yawning thighs, hard cocks and stud balls buried deep in their manly, bushy nests.
The Coach stared at the way my own cock pulsed between my legs, the head wet and oozing. “Come on guys,” he called out, “Give me a show! Strut around awhile…”
Everyone cheered–grabbing their beers, me wading out of the tub to join them–and we sauntered about the decking, hardons bobbing and twitching. In the hot tub’s sexy glow, my balls swung heavily between as my eyes followed the proud display of muscular, naked gymnasts sporting hugely-hard rods and swinging nuts.
“I’m so HORNY!” Chico laughed, tossing his gigantic cock in knifing-thrusts at the sitting Coach. And we gave one another a passing feel as we marched by each other, revelling in our masculinity, loving the pleasure of touching another naked dude’s juicy piece and flopping balls.
Tony stopped me by clamping his fist around both our soaring dicks, trying to trap them together—unable to manage it–his black eyes drilling me as I shuddered to feel his hugeness rubbing mine, our ripe nerve endings threatening to send us over the edge!
And as we came near the Coach, each guy paused to brandish his rod, with Chico actually thumping his leaking cock on the muscleman’s head–then tea-bagging his sexy low hangers across Coach’s upraised, licking face.
When my turn came, the Coach gave me a biceps flex–ordering me to flop my huge nuts all over his mountainous muscle–and I moaned to feel my soft balls roll across that hot mountain of power, when suddenly he reached his forearm up between my spread thighs and fingered my virgin hole while licking my big Danish throbber.
My legs turned to jello at his touch–rivers of syrup pouring down my shaft onto his lapping tongue—and I shuddered from the thrills, having to back away, afraid I’d shoot!
“You’re so hot, Jensen,” the Coach muttered, staring at my juicing whopper. “–so fuckin’ HOT….”
The compliment only enflamed my turned-on state, making my balls swollen with cum, and it was all I could do to let someone else share the Coach’s attentions. Hell, it was all I could do to not just whack-off at the pornographic pageant of all those parading, bush-haloed, thumping, thwacking, twitching bonerized cocks fanning my lust.
I wantonly ogled Tommy’s shy approach to the sitting Coach, his teen cock so erect it looked ready to cum hands free. And I watched the Coach’s sensitivity–at how he talked gently up at the proud teen, then only gave Tommy’s sweet dick a sexy squeeze, leaving the boy fevered and blushing.
“This is so WILD!” Chico crowed, swilling beer, flaunting his giant, drooling chorizo.
Tommy laughed and mimicked him, watching their erotic weapons clash–engaging in ferocious swordplay–moaning and grunting over the sexy sensations rifling up their tight-skinned shafts.
It made me all the more horny, watching their jousting fucksticks; and then I turned to watch Mark Wynn get into gear.
He stood before the sitting Coach, showing off his stud cock totem, offering it with slack-jawed lust, while tossing his balls around to see what the virile Coach would do.
He simply opened his handsome mouth and slobbered the huge head all up, as Mark’s beefy tits suddenly bloomed in heat, the nipples swelling into spears, an animalistic groan escaping his lips. So shaken by the Coach’s uninhibited cocksucking, Mark looked ready to blow, and backed away just in time.
Tony then sat down beside the Coach—rubbing shoulders and biceps with him–the pair of studs spreading their thighs to show off their superhard cocks. And Tony looked at everything the Coach had, while licking his lips and practically drooling.
I motioned to Mark to come with me down into the tub.
“Let’s watch!” I whispered.
Mark poked his over-sized porker into my asscrack as we waded though the bubbling water, me laughing at how he’d changed, so relaxed and cock proud.
Tony and the Coach spread their thunder thighs wider as we approached. “C’mere,” Tony said to Mark. “Show me that fat, hard dick of yours….”
Mark moved-in closer–letting Tony’s knees connect with his chest–leaving me standing below the Coach, my eyes in line with his knockout, hairy pecs.
“Come back for more, Jensen?” he asked, swigging his beer.
“You know it, Coach,” I said, fixing my eyes on his, trying not to flinch.
“You’re the only one not afraid of my badboy dong,” he said with slitted, bedroom eyes.
“You got that right,” I said back, determined not to be cowed but keep his stare.
It was stupid to even try. The Coach wasn’t just a big man! I mean, hell…Tony was big–Mark Wynn was big. Coach Dan was massive—with the cock and balls to match–and throw in the fact that his mountainous chest was covered in sexy fur–that his stallion thighs were equally hairy–that his arms, even relaxed, could easily crush my skull, and that he towered a full six-foot-two, with enormous shoulders…well, no one I’d ever laid eyes on could claim to have been his equal, let alone me.
Yet still I held his gaze.
“You sexy son-of-a-bitch,” he growled, “Look how hard you make me!”
The pulsing thing shot up from his black-curled nest like a mast–flexing and teasing me–the head a glossy, mauve-toned helmet—deeply flanged and snorting pre-cum. The stuff rivered down the thickly-veined shaft to dribble over the furry folds of his endless balls.
“I can’t believe I managed to swallow that Monster,” I said, smiling weakly, staring at its girth.
He said nothing. He was gazing down at my own formidable tool–dark eyes glittering; and seeing his evident lust, I moved in between his knees, tilting my hips to rub my shiny cockhead into the soft pillow of his hairy bag of balls.
“Goddamn, Jensen,” He hissed at me. “You make me nuts, you blond sexy bastard!”
I squeezed my inner thighs to produce a spurt of cockcandy, then smeared it over his lovesacs, my golden bush standing on end in soft-but-kinky, electrified response. Thrills raced up my shaft, making the whole, rigid thing buck and bounce hotly against his enormous rod.
The Coach groaned, emboldening me–making me reach my hand up to then pinch one of his thick, studly nipples—the feeling hot and sexy, like a baby hardon, his curly chest hair tickling my knuckles.
Lost in lust, my knees caved-in, putting me solidly between his thighs–our cocks thumping together–my face mashed against his fur-coated pecs. And when his hands clamped around my head, I was in hot man heaven–my hot mouth wantonly suckling his muscular tits–my nose snuffling his meaty, hairy flesh, smelling pure Man, and groaning in joy as his thighs clamped around my waist.
He loosened his grip, and I turned my face to lick slavishly at his enormous bicep, trying in vain to bite the granite-smooth muscle. “Oh, fuck, Jensen,” he moaned, “–you’re gonna make me blow!”
We eased-off and panted, our eyes once again locking.
Mark and Tony were staring at us in evident lust, wondering what we’d get into next. But feeling overwhelmed by it all, I simply vaulted out of the tub to sit next to the muscular giant–our thighs rubbing, adding heat to our throbbing cocks–the Coach brushing his loaf-sized bicep against my upper arm and shoulder.
On any other man his musculature would look bulky, steroidal, unnatural. But his great height and bone structure distributed his physique so uniformly, with the size of his cock and balls complimenting It all, it resulted in a physique so breathtakingly carnal, so lewd, that there couldn’t be a man on the planet who wouldn’t be caught staring at such a classic specimen when naked in a locker room shower.
Just then Chico and Tommy came down into the tub, stiff rods twitching, holding hands.
“Awww, sweet!” Mark said, “They’re gonna show off for us!”
Tommy’s face turned red at Mark’s words. “I-I don’t know what I’m doing–we just feel left out of everything…”
“Yeah,” Chico said. “And we were getting cold.”
“You don’t look very cold to me,” Tony smirked.
“You like Chico’s big cock, Tommy?” Coach Dan asked him.
“Of course!” Tommy beamed. “It’s HUGE!”
“You don’t mind if Tommy touches it, do you, Chico?”
Chico grinned, his teeth sparkling white. “You can do whatever the fuck you want with my dick, Tommy!”
“Really?” Tommy whispered. “Yeah?”
Chico took Tommy’s hand and put it under his mocha-toned, hair-sprinkled balls. “Go ahead–play around,” he said. “…do whatever you want!”
Tommy blushed hotly, his hand experimentally fingering Chico’s draping, heavy lovesacs.
Tony, Mark, the Coach and I watched his virginal groping with eager eyes, the boy looking thrilled, his young body trembling as he and Chico stood thigh-deep in the swirling water. They swivelled their hips to thwack cocks, laughing with pleasure, then reached down to squeeze the pair together.
“Aren’t you guys cold?” Chico asked up at us.
“Yeah,” Tommy said, “Why don’t we all have some fun?”
That’s all it took. Soon the six of us were in the tub, standing hip-to-hip, hard cocks thrusting in the center.
“I’ve GOT to cum!” Chico stared at the collection of lusty, drooling dicks. “I’ve just GOT to!”
“Please,” Tommy said to him, “–let me try something first, okay?”
Chico didn’t have a chance to answer because suddenly Tommy was crouching in the hot, steamy water, licking at Chico’s balls.
“Fuck–look at THAT,” Mark groaned.
Tommy then moved over to Mark’s crotch and his sweet, pink tongue licked right up Mark’s beer-can-of-a-cock, making Mark shudder and thump its hugeness all over Tommy’s licking face.
Unable to help ourselves, we all pressed our throbbing cocks over Tommy’s crouching, brown-curly head as he swivelled in the water, licking madly at every nerve-studded rod he could reach. His virgin eagerness made him slobber at balls and cocks alike, all of us moaning at his innocent raunchiness.
Not knowing what to do with our hands, we suddenly reached behind and grabbed each other’s cheeks while Tommy luxuriated in licking five torched-out cocks.
“Ohmygod,” Mark Wynn moaned, “–he’s gonna make me…..”
“…me, too!” Chico cried out.
“Oh FUCK!” the Coach thundered, as Tommy snuffled right up under and deep against his hairy peaches, reaching his very private, very male taint.
“Shoot it on me!” Tommy begged from below.
And my hand was grabbing the Coach’s gigantic cock and fisting like mad–the monstrous thing bucking in my grip–and I gasped to feel someone handling my own throbber. And we all stared in lusty wonder as hands fisted in slick-slapping abandon, Tommy’s uplifted face in a lust-crazed trace.
Balls flew in a blur. Cockhair stood on end. Cockheads expanded in warning–and then knees buckled.
Fountains of ropey jizz sailed into the air, landing everywhere–huge splats hitting tits and heaving abs—while Tommy’s astonished face became ribboned with cream, his pink tongue lolling around like the sex-thirsty and cock-and-balls-crazed teen he now was proud to be!
Suddenly he, too, stood up, offering his red-hot poker to Chico, who shuddered out his last orgasm and then grabbed the teen’s lancing cock, masturbating furiously.
Tommy whimpered, his blue eyes wide, his flushed face helplessly excited. And I stared at Chico’s flying fist and Tommy’s glowing cockhead, watching his pink nipples standing in distended lust, his whole body flexed, fists clamped at his sides.
The Coach grabbed Tommy’s wrist and drove the teen’s hand under his hairy, steamy bag of nuts, and Tommy latched onto the Coach’s cum-slickened cock. And that did it, sending him over the brink, Chico’s relentless pumping frictioning and triggering him to an ecstatic release—us cheering him on–as Tommy squeezed the Coach’s thick meat, hips locked at a rakish tilt as the first jets of teen jizz plowed out his gasping cock.
Tommy convulsively shuddered–Chico syphoning-up countless ropes of cum–sperm spattering the Coach’s hairy tits while we stared in awe of Tommy’s endless, shuddering climax–watching it in awe go on and on and on.
“Oh! Oh, God!” he whimpered, seizing-up to watch his cock rear up and hurl yet another volley.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I eventually went in to bring out towels–and when everyone had soaked awhile, we all dried-off and made our way back into the living room, sitting around with a fresh round of beers, leaving the hot tub’s filtration system to deal with all the floating jizz.
“Holy crow, Tommy,” Chico said, raising his bottle. “Here’s to you, man–that was amazing! What a show!”
Tommy looked down between his legs at his softened dick. “You guys really turn me on,” he said, voice soft. “Just sitting here like this is getting me horny all over again!”
Beside him the Coach smiled, spread his hairy thighs and rubbed his unshaven jaw. And Chico looked down at Coach Dan’s thick hoser, making love to his giant, hairy balls. “You’ve got the biggest cockhead I’ve ever seen, Coach; Jesus…”
“Don’t you love how every guy’s dong is different?” Tony said, surveying our fat, soft dicks.
“You’ve got a super one,” Mark said to him. “Everyone loves your cock, man!”
I looked at the Coach, who was staring between my spread thighs. “Oh, man,” I said. “–look at all these hot bodies! It’s like our very own nudist colony!”
“I know,” Tommy breathed. “I can’t believe I can look at you naked studs all I want!”
None of us were throwing rods after having so recently blown our loads. But I knew it wouldn’t be long before I’d get another one going. Already I could feel my balls churning-up more jizz.
The Coach slung back his beer, laid his enormous arms out along the top of the sofa, displaying for our pleasure his beautiful, expansive, hairy chest and huge nipples. Tommy sat on his left, and Chico on his right. Mark and Tony sat in the armchairs at either end. I sat naked on a kitchen chair facing the sofa, with a good view of everyone’s sexy junk.
“At my first university job, I was the football coach’s assistant,” the Coach said after a while. We drank our beers, our eyes drifting over his hairy physique and crotch.
“I’ll bet that was hot,” I offered, hoping for more.
He swigged his bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah, it was,” he smiled a little. “–‘course, you guys know there’s that ‘invisible line’ no one can cross?” he added, looking around.
Everyone grinned and nodded knowingly, and my eyes instinctively stopped staring at the Coach’s big cock and balls, that boundary too familiar to not still obey.
Mark Wynn smiled and coughed. “I’ve smacked a lot of ass, but that’s as far as it goes…”
“…smacking ass is what got you invited tonight, Wynn,” Tony said cryptically, making all of us laugh.
“Well, football jocks SPECIALIZE in ass-patting,” the Coach said, his deep voice filling the room. “In fact, those guys were about the most physical studs I’ve ever seen…”
“I guess football being a contact sport lets them fool around alot,” I said, leading him on.
The Coach swigged his beer dry. “No shit,” he said. “You got THAT right!”
“Wow,” Tommy said, finishing-up his own bottle.
I got up to go get another round, and it felt super to be cock-and-balls naked, listening to the Coach launch into what could only be a raunchy locker room story.
“They thought nothing about scrubbing each other’s backs in the showers,” he went on. “I mean, when you’re six-four and three hundred pounds, you need a little help back there sometimes, huh?” He smiled to himself at the memory.
“Oh, Jeez,” Mark Wynn said, killing his beer. “I can just see those sweet jock butts now, man!”
The Coach nodded at Mark. “–like cannon balls, baby,” he winked. “–with cracks so deep, your whole hand would get swallowed inside…”
“Awww, Jesus,” Tony said, shifting his muscular body on the sofa.
I consciously let my thick cock flop sexily around and slap against my balls as I came in to hand out fresh beers. And for a minute, no one said a word as they watched my tossing dong and blond-puffy crotch.
“Rumor has it,” I said, handing the Coach his bottle, “–that receivers have a ‘thing’ about quarterbacks. Is that true?”
Coach Dan laughed knowingly, his eyes following my thick, swinging dick. “You’re more in the loop than I expected, Jensen,” he toasted me. “–not only THAT, but tight ends and fullbacks have a thing about receivers AND quarterbacks…”
“Gee,” Chico said, taking his beer. “–so who do quarterbacks go for?”
“Assistant Coaches!” Coach Dan threw us all a sly, foxy look and wink.
A lusty moan escaped our lips, our eyes running over every muscular inch of the Coach’s nude physique. I was just about to sit down when he said that, and his sexy admission went straight to my balls, me picturing it. I stood there feeling hot blood pulse into my cock, making the dangling thing suddenly tingle and twitch.
“You must dig quarterbacks, too, Jensen,” the Coach nodded at my lolling, filling fleshtube.
“–OR Assistant Coaches!” Tony laughed, making me blush and sit down quickly.
“After we’d won this really important game,” the Coach went on, “–they were REALLY horsing around in the showers,” he recalled. “I mean, NOBODY’S ass was safe, man! And then one of the receivers was trying to grab a feel of the quarterback’s dick…”
“Was–was it BIG?” Tommy asked eagerly.
Everyone laughed, breaking the sexy tension, yet, like him, we all wanted to know the answer!
“All those guys had big fat dongs,” the Coach swigged his beer.
“As big as yours?” Chico stared between his husky thighs.
The Coach reached his hand down and hefted the huge cock over his thigh. And that alone did it for me, sitting there with an already ripening hardon, it just thrust upward from my blond-bushy vee. I tried momentarily to hide it, then gave up, shrugging and smiling to myself, happy in knowing it didn’t matter—in fact, I could be proud of it!
“Easily as big as this,” the Coach fondled his tubular hang awhile, then dropped it with a thick slap against his fleshy balls. “Anyway,” he said, smiling at how his sexy show had all of us sporting uptilting, hardening rods, “–the Coach had gone off and left me in charge of closing-up–and they all knew it.” He swigged his beer, “–and they’d already passed around a few bottles of champagne, so everyone was loopy….”
“Oh man!” Mark Wynn said, “I can see them playing with each other and shit, feeling horny in the shower!”
“Well, hell,” the Coach went on, “–it wasn’t long before the quarterback–his name was Steve…”
“…. what did he look like?” Chico interrupted, his gorgeous fat chorizo standing up, three-quarters hard.
“Steve? Oh hell, man. Steve was this sort-of chocolate-colored black dude–a little darker than you, baby,” the Coach said to Chico. “The most perfectly muscled guy you ever saw–not a hair on his body, except real thick down here…” the Coach dug his fingers into his own knuckle-deep, black bush.
“Uhhhhh,” Tommy moaned, his boycock bounding up like a flagpole. “Chico’s body really turns me on,” he whispered. “Steve sounds pretty hot, too, Coach!”
“Yeah, well, with the receiver going after Steve, it wasn’t long before Steve’s fat, mahogany dong got all hard,” the Coach recalled. “–and then everyone else’s headed for the skies.”
“Awww fuck,” Tony said, opening his thighs up to let his own hardon have its way and stand proud.
“So they all went nuts, laughing and trying to grab each other’s hard rods under the hot, spraying showers,” the Coach swigged his beer, “–and THAT’S when Steve spotted me at the doorway, watching all the action.”
“Oh yeah!” Mark Wynn muttered, “–here we go!” His solid, beefsteak cock shot straight up above his stud balls and dark blond bush.
“–so Steve runs into the locker room–his stiff dork smacking around–and drags me, clothes and all, into the showers!”
“Awww, fuck!” Tony repeated, staring at the Coach’s beefy, hairy tits. “This is so fuckin’ hot!”
“And the whole bunch of them stripped me bareassed, with their wet, naked hardons slapping around…”
“Christ!” Mark said, “–what happened then? Were you, um, you know, throwing a rod, too?
The Coach shrugged at him. “What do YOU think, man? I was already hard, just from watching Steve from the doorway…”
Suddenly the Coach got up from the sofa, backing-up against the kitchen counter, giving us a perfect view of that physique. His firehose-of-a-cock looped in the air, half-full, the giant head tilting up, his heavy-slung balls slapping his hairy thighs. “Steve slid to the shower room floor—and the next thing I knew, my big old cock was half-way down his throat, man,” the Coach said, squeezing his thighs. “I’m getting a hardon just thinking about it!”
We couldn’t help moaning watching the Coach’s tubular hang twitch and pulse, thickly swaying out at us, the massive meat tocking in heartbeats to throb its way vertical like a giant flexing muscle.
“Everyone came around us–fisting their hot cocks—watching Steve-the-quarterback give the Assistant Coach a royal blowjob,” the Coach husked. He looked down at his throbbing, vein-roped erection. “Aw, fuck, dudes,” he said. “Look at me–I’m so ripe now, I’m wet!”
“So are WE,” Tommy said excitedly, staring at all of us staring at the Coach’s hideously turned-on cock and heavy, hairy lovesacs. “What happened NEXT?”
The Coach’s nipples poked out from his furry pecs like corks. His huge, muscular physique rippled with sexual current, vibrating with excitement. “The water was spraying all over us–so much steam in there, I couldn’t really see–and then this huge fullback named Joe started soaping up my ass….”
By now we were all sitting there, helplessly masturbating, too horny to do anything but moan and fist our needy meat.
The Coach reached around and grabbed each of his cheeks, then swivelled, with us suddenly staring bug-eyed at his spread, furry round globes. “Yeah–see?” the Coach said, fingering his mysterious, deeply-cleft ass, actually showing off his winking rosebud. “Joe first lathered me all up and then…and then, just SHOVED his thumb up my cherry cunt!”
“Auugghh,” Mark groaned out, watching the Coach roughly push his own thumb into his resisting slit and keep it there, his giant balls slapping his hand.
“Jesus,” Tony stared, eyes dark, all pupil and lusty.
“Awww, HELL,” the Coach moaned out. “C’mon Chico–come on and be Steve for me, man!”
Chico was on his feet in seconds, his Latino cock spearing before him.
“Play with my big hairy ass,” the Coach’s voice was deep and husky. “Make it wet!”
Chico dropped like a rock, kneeling into the task, lapping deep inside his muscular butt, and, in needy invitation, tilted his own beautiful, round lightly-haired cheeks up at us!
“Go for it, Tommy,” I told the pug-nosed teen.
Tommy came away from the sofa hypnotically, cock bobbing hotly–eyes fixed on Chico’s spread, compact gymnast globes–at how the little Latino’s huge balls hung enticingly below.
Mark Wynn watched the sloppy action of Chico’s mouth inside the Coach’s deep crack. And I no sooner paused to take a swig of beer than Mark was walking trancelike in front of the bent-over Coach, his drooling, jutting slab of thick meat nearly touching Coach Dan’s nose!
The Coach’s mouth simply yawned open to take the whole, lip-splitting meat inside. “God DAMN,” Mark howled, his knees buckling at the riot of frictioned nerve endings. The brush-cut jock’s nipples turned to baby thumbs, making me groan at the sight and make a beeline for them.
“Oh, Jeezus,” Mark moaned at me, his eyes wild. “What’re you…?”
I just licked my lips and bent down to suction his sexy nubs, when suddenly I felt a pair of hands grab my narrow hips.
Tony’s fingers were spreading my deeply-cleft globes, rough jaw sandpapering my virgin, lightly furred crack, hot tongue diving deep. I moaned all over Mark’s hot nipple, then gummed it hard over Tony’s butt snuffling, the feelings so new, so raunchy I saw stars. And fuck, but the whole, lamplit cabin suddenly filled with the raunchy sounds of slobbering mouths and moaning, naked, hard-cocked, gymnast-stud sex.
“Jesus,” the Coach’s muffled voice called out over Mark’s huge cock as he wagged his muscular butt into Chico’s face. “So hot—so fuckin’ hot…”
The next thing I knew, Tony was kissing and licking his way up my arched back until tonguing my earlobe. Abandoning Mark’s swollen tits, I jerked my head, sucking Tony’s muscular tongue deep inside, stiff cocks thumping and nuzzling till both of us couldn’t take anymore without blowing.
Panting, we stared at the sloppy action. “Too fuckin’ much,” Tony gaped at the cocksucking Coach.
“Go sit on the sofa and wait for me,” I said quickly. “I’ve got an idea….”
Running from the bathroom, I shoved a bottle of baby oil into the Coach’s grasping hand. I winked at Tony and tocked my throbbing cock around at the big Italian, joining him on the sofa. Pausing before sitting, I let him fondle my big hot balls and play with my turned-on, Tony-adoring, eight hard inches.
“Oh yeah!” Coach huskily yelled.
I quickly sat, with a perfect view of Tommy eating out Chico’s ass–and Chico snuffling Coach’s deep, furry crack, who was bent at the waist, slobbering Mark’s hot cock, and Mark swooning, hands planted on Coach’s enormous shoulders. Still throating Mark’s sex piston, the Coach managed to hand the baby oil to Chico, who paused, not comprehending.
“Slick that badboy of yours all up!”
Tony grabbed my hot cock in excited heat to watch Chico stand up and dribble oil all over his horny, Latin, helmet-headed cudgel.
Tommy stood up also, Chico handing him the bottle. “You do it, too,” Chico told the sex-flushed teen.
“Now oil up my hole,” the Coach ordered. “Get my twat all sloppy!”
“Holy JEEZ,” Tony said, fisting my cock like it was his own, and me of his steaming giant, my eyes all over Tommy greasing-up Chico’s perfect butt.
“Look at Chico’s COCK,” Tony gasped.
I was. It was gleaming–so slick with oil, the dark-meated throbber looked monstrous and needy.
“Oh yeah–oh fuck yeah,” the Coach gruffly called. “Now FUCK me, Chico—fuck me with your big hot COCK!”
“Oh baby, look at THAT!” Tony muttered as Chico aimed his blunt-nosed cock and, with quivering thighs, tried to nudge through the Coach’s tight slit.
“Just…fucking…DO IT! I can take it—take it all!”
“Look at TOMMY,” I fisted Tony’s skin rocket. “–look at….”
Suddenly, lust taking over, Chico went for broke and truly did ram himself balls-deep inside that hot, spread, all-man pussy–and Tommy, for his part, was slapping his own hard teen cock across Chico’s butt!
“Holy fuck! He’s FUCKING him, Jordie,” Tony ogled Chico’s humping hips. “I mean, ACTUALLY FUCKING COACH DAN!!”
“Oh GOD, oh god, oh GOD, you’re H U G E!” Coach yelled out, all hoarse and throaty.
Mark Wynn stood paralyzed before the Coach, eyes bulging, staring at the carnal scene of Chico’s thrusting hips, at the swells of the Coach’s ass jiggling from the assault, being scrubbed by that Latin, crisp black bush.
Tommy looked seized by indecision, even as his eyes hotly watched Chico’s ass shaking at him, begging for it. And suddenly Mark, in usual jock mode, just came over to the teen, roughly took Tommy’s oiled-up, seven-incher, pried it down and just shoved the fucker into Chico’s virgin cunt!
The Coach, Chico, and Tommy froze–suspended and stunned. Time itself stopped. The cabin fell silent, with Tony and I left wondering, and waiting….
And then an unearthly groan hit the air!
“Jesus Christ!” Tony said. “Is he okay?!”
Chico let out a howling moan, bent over the Coach’s back, with Tommy bent over Chico’s, both locked in place. Chico’s well-busted cherry was a riot of such a sweet pain, the little stud could only swallow and gasp and will his glowing sphincter to stretch and yawn and accept its fate…for he wanted nothing more in the whole world in that moment than to learn to take cock. And his gymnast dedication to anything physically challenging made all the difference.
Slowly, still moaning, Chico’s hips pulled back, making Tommy’s cock slide a bit deeper, while the little man’s own torched cock pulled out some from Coach’s steamy sex tunnel. In time, his ass reshaped itself around the girth of its new master to find both Tommy and Chico hunching and moaning. And with each thrust, Tommy’s thighs trembled, his cum-filled balls slogging as they smacked Chico’s nuts and then swung back at our staring eyes.
Tony and I gasped as we saw Mark Wynn feverishly start greasing-up Tommy’s pink cheeks. “Oh no, you don’t,” Tony got up quickly. “You’re not gonna shove that battering ram of yours in there! He’s just a kid, Wynn….”
Mark looked dazed, watching Tony seize the baby oil and unceremoniously jerk him around and slap his round hard ass. “Wait a minute!” Mark whined.
Tony laughed, then slathered Mark’s own asscrack with oiled-up fingers, and in seconds Tony shoved his middle finger right up into Mark’s pink, winking hole, skewering him, while using his other arm to bend the big jock over.
Tony’s bludgeon-of-a-cock bounced thickly against Mark’s ass until–bending the freshly-oiled thing down–Tony swiftly drove his whole flared helmet through Mark’s clamping O-ring butt, leaving it there to take stock.
“Unggghhhh!” Mark yelled, the sound making me wince in sympathy. “AAAAAHHHHH! God DAMN!”
“Take it, Wynn,” Tony husked, bending his knees while tilting his hips upward. Then he craned his handsome Italian head around at me. “Don’t just sit there, Jordie,” he called. “You do ME, now!”
I hesitated, thinking Tony had to be joking.
Mark was howling like a stuck boar, while the Coach and Chico were moaning in sweet agony. But only when I actually got close enough–my stiff cock throbbing at the sight–did I hear Mark’s real tune.
“Oh God—it’s–it’s so BIG! Oh fuck, I do want it. I want it! I want it bad!” He was bent at the waist, his head tossing, as Tony began driving his whole Italian sausage deep past Wynn’s clamping asslips.
So, too, did I hear Chico grunting with carnal delight each time Tommy’s boycock dove inside his glowing pussy. The Coach was shouting, ordering rougher treatment–all of it making me so hot, I couldn’t oil-up my aching rod fast enough.
All I had to do was bend my stiffness and inch my way closer with Tony’s swinging ass doing the rest–and suddenly I felt his anal lips suck me right inside, the feeling wildly hot. Tony’s muscular, deep-tanned butt fucked my greased-up cock–milking it, skinning it–a tight, nerve-tingling, vacuuming tunnel.
Amazed at his hunger for cock—his determination to have it all—his gymnast’s tolerance for adjusting to pain–my hands found Tony’s narrow waist, guiding his pistoning hips over my Danish dick—and in increasing increments, I felt my ballbag slap his own, while watching Tommy plowing Chico, who fucked the Coach. And then our own moans joined the chorus of their relentless shouts and grunts.
It was all becoming way too hot–too tremblingly edgy—too fucking good!; and I felt my balls swell in that telltale, familiar warning–felt my thighs jitter erratically, my cock’s nerve endings frayed and stripped any ability to keep things going, the bloated thing too in love with Tony’s clasping, gymnast cunt.
My hands flew around his body, my fingers finding his engorged nipples, pec slabs jostling against my palms. I licked his deeply-tanned, muscular back, my hips hunching into his hot sweet Italian hole–every thrust too much to handle, a wave of excitement I couldn’t control, feeling faint, in total meltdown.
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“Oh!” I uttered, my knees caving-in.
They locked against his thighs in a quaking, jittering, erratic tremor. And then I came.
Warm, wet, viscous cum cannonaded Tony’s guts, my swollen cock roasted by that clasping tunnel– gushes jizzing his gymnast pussy, my head tossing around, my torso in catatonic upheaval, flexing and shaking.
Suddenly Tony seized–his ass clamping over my numbed-out, cum-clogged cock–his hips quaking against my knees, as he, too, unloaded into Mark.
“UUUNNNggghhhhhhh!” Mark moaned with Tony. And then Tommy also groaned.
Colored dots popped before eyes as we went together over the falls, Chico uttering Spanish oaths, the Coach grunting at the girth of Chico’s torched-out cock, the whole cabin spinning in a wild orgiastic vortex–a horny, cum-blasting, ballsy, gymnast-stud lovefest, in a mind-blowing climax to our sexual quest for liberation.