Date: Sat, 06 May 2006 12:53:28 -0700 From: posingstrap@hotmail.com Subject: "Naked Gymnast Weekend" - Part Three After celebrating things with a fresh round of beers, we lay in one another's arms, the hot tub bubbling--steam rising up 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 both hands and fondled our underwater cocks. "If they could see us now...." he laughed, wagging our big, languid salamis. I gasped at his firm fingers, then dove in and grabbed his, making Tony jump. "But you know..." I said, "I can't help thinking...." I gradually let go and put my hands behind my head, looking up into the night sky. "....let's NOT think about it, 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, then hell--we can't be the only ones...." "....I suppose," Tony's eyes searched mine, wondering along with me. "....like if what you say is true--that you guys see all these boners 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 so white when he grinned, 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 lewd 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. "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 banana cock and big balls around, flinging water all over our faces. "A naked, hot tub party!" Tony grabbed his mocha 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 dodo!" "I'm not this, what-you-call-it....a dodo!" 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?" ".....we aren't exactly his buddies, now are we?" Tony countered. "But 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, playing with his underwater cock and balls. "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!" "Yeah, but he's real cute!" Chico smiled. "--and more than THAT...." Chico paused dramatically. "....What???" Tony and I both asked at the same time. "...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 laughed. 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, and we have lots of beers....". he winked at us. "....things will get VERY interesting in the ol' hot tub!" Tony dove his hand down to feel up my cock and balls. I laughed 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. "WHO??? C'mon, say it!" I looked at Chico apologetically. "Mark Wynn," I said lamely. "Wha-a-a-a-a-t?" Chico stared at me. "You jest!" Tony laughed. I drank my beer, 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 when 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 smacking butt and bullying guys like David for a reason...." Tony smiled a little, getting my point. "I'd LOVE to see that big fucker get his!" "Wow!" Chico said. "This is really getting IN-TER-ES-TING!" "Now look," I said, "--we three should stick to having say, two beers each. We can fill our bottles with water after that so we look like we're getting bombed along with them." "Yes! That way we'll be sober and can 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 phonecalls!" 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 snoring naked, 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 relaxed 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. I myself 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 sexual 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-anty' 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 a basket 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 prominent male bulge. To his credit, Chico merely tipped his water-filled beer bottle back, acting as if he wasn't aware. The temperature in the cabin began rising. And with everyone else guzzling their third beer, Tony casually began undoing some buttons on his denim shirt. We decided he shouldn't wear an undershirt, and Tony's deep pectoral divide was clearly exposed. And this 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, male get-together. 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 falsely protested. "--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 tell us about a hot tub, Jordan?" he looked over at me. I nodded from the kitchen. "It's out back and ready to go." I glanced at Tony, who gave me a quick wink. 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!" As if eager to take the Coach's every lead, Tommy was on his feet, unbuttoning his flannel shirt and pulling it off. "Um, I didn't bring a suit," he mumbled to the Coach. "Me, too," Mark Wynn said, looking uncomfortably at everyone suddenly undressing. "So? I don't have one either," Coach shrugged, "Who cares? It's night!" "Hell," I said casually, trying like crazy not to let my eyes stray. "We're totally the only ones on the whole lake!" Chico dropped his pants, his wornout red Speedo pouch so frayed and stuffed with sex, it bulged like a threadbare, Christmas stocking 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, ist's gonna rip through any minute," Tony complained, playing the game we'd planned. "Shut up!" Chico said in mock indignation. "I can't help it if I'm hung!" "Wow," Tommy said in his high-pitched, young voice. "--looks like ALL of you are big down there!" Coach Dan was now shirtless, folding his jeans, wearing only a sheer pair of white bikini briefs. The pouch was jam-packed with dick and balls, and his dark pubic hair poked 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 me 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 embarrassed, sporting an old, somewhat-frayed jockstrap. I also noticed that of all of us, he was the one beginning to show signs of being turned-on. The hefty pouch was slightly angular. Tony wore jockeys, as did I and Tommy. Tommy was no longer feeling exposed, 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 stood out from the centers of his mounded pecs in perky, aroused distension. It was the only indicator that the nicely-muscled boy was excited by all the muscled, male bodies in the room. Most teens his age had nothing special to look at while standing in their jockeys. 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 family jewels. To me, though, it was Chico and Tony who made my heart pound. As sexy as the Coach was--with his hair-forested, hunky, ripped pecs and enormous arms and shoulders--my mouth watered the second I saw Chico's red Speedo and Tony's big-cocked jockey shorts. To my delight, I saw my best buddies staring back at my 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 could be slippery from the dew." I looked at all the muscled 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 already looked frozen. He spoke to the Coach, as if appealing to a man'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 gloom, feeling the truly arctic air suddenly washing over his bikini-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 said to me, exchanging a wink and smile. And suddenly we were all about to sit around again--only this time practically buckass naked! Everyone's relaxation level seemed challenged by Mark Wynn's uptightness. The beefy-chested, big-boned jock didn't know where to keep his eyes focused as everyone resumed their seats. Everywhere he looked there was masculine 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!" Chico and Tony gave me warning looks, as if I shouldn't have revealed that information. "--you three are, um, buddies?" the Coach asked, staring at my full jockeys as I walked towards the sofa with his brew. "Yeah," Tony rescued me. "We help each other perfect our routines and shit." The Coach's eyes drifted over Tony's tanned, big-pec'd, big-biceped physique and then down at his snow-white pouch. Chico laughed at the Coach. "Those two want to try doing floor stuff," he said disparagingly. All eyes rivetted on Chico's dark, hair-sprinkled, fulsome pecs and the prominent, almost-obscene fulness of his threadbare, red Speedo. I swear I could see some ballskin leaking out a fraying hole. "It'll kill your lower back," Coach Dan said to Tony and me. "Guys like Chico--and Tommy, if he ever decides to try it--are...." the Coach's eyes looked over Chico's tightly-muscled body. "--well, they're better 'equipped'--lower to the floor," he said, clearing his throat. "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, putting his entire, six-foot body on display. The Coach's eyes really gave Tony's physique a long, careful examination. "You aren't just tall, Rosario," he stared. "--you're big. Big everywhere!" The Coach's gaze was firmly planted on Tony's crotch. Tony laughed, giving his pouch a healthy feel. "Gee, thanks, Coach!" he said. "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 jockeys, "--it sure seems to attract boys 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 sexy-looking rod. All eyes landed on his unhideable jockstrap. His lips trembled in embarrassment as he quickly sat back down in the armchair. It was totally obvious that the big jock was suffering as Tony stood before him--hands on hips--his weighty pouch leaving little to the imagination. 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 said bluntly to Mark. An anxious thrill wnet up my spine. Leave it to Tony to confront Mark directly! "Yeah," Coach Dan said, chuckling. "And you're no exception, Wynn!" "You've got a BIG one," Tommy's high-pitched, quiet voice showed the beer was starting to talk for him. Everyone laughed, with even Mark giving an embarrassed smile at the compliment. "Well, it seems to want to get even bigger tonight," he half-whispered, quickly swilling down his beer. "No worries," 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 feel our 'Wheaties'!" Mark's green eyes widened. He drank nearly half his beer in one swallow. "I get so embarrassed," he confessed to the Coach. "I get horny at the worst times!" "Well, this ain't one of 'em, Wynn," the Coach said back. "If there were chicks here--well, that's a whole different ballgame, huh?" He ran a large hand over his huge, hairy pecs. "But hell, we're just a bunch of guys feeling proud of what we got!" Tony smiled at me and sat back down, looking at the Coach. It appeared that the fourth beer was the charm--the catalyst we'd been praying for. Everyone was becoming loose-lipped and uninhibited by the minute, and this 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 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 guy's got!" He shrugged, and drank some beer. "It makes me real horny!" There was a very tense, charged silence in the already-electric cabin. All eyes were rivetted on Chico's fondling hand. I myself thought I was going to have a mini-stroke. Chico had certainly bumped things up a few notches! Coach Dan was by far the oldest in the group. I knew for a fact he was really only twenty-eight--and being the oldest, he held most of the cards. Beyond that--besides his age--he was our Coach and our muscled leader and authority figure. I held my breath, wondering what our stud-muscled, big-biceped, hairy-chested, number one guest would say. My eyes grew huge to watch him open his hairy thighs at Chico and reach down to fumble with his own overstuffed, practically-translucent, bikini briefs. "I guess THIS makes you horny, too, then," he challenged Chico. Chico swallowed, his eyes fixed on the sexy display. "Oh yes," he managed to admit, "--it really does, Coach!" "Oh hell," Coach Dan laughed. "It's no better n' yours, or anyone else's, man...." "...I don't know about that," Tony said, staring. "It's gotta be gigantic!" "Heck--we're just GUYS," the Coach smiled, drinking his beer. "We can't get one another pregnant! We're having a little stag party--getting off on what the other guy has to be proud of!" 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, Jordie?" I nodded absently, my eyes all over the Coach's 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 said, with everyone listening raptly. I did so, my fingers trembling with excitement. "Okay," I said, "you want them shuffled, I guess, huh?" I suddenly needed a real beer, instead of the water. "Yeah," Coach Dan smiled at everyone. "So here's how it works, guys...." He opened his beefy, hairy legs. "Whoever gets the 'Nine' goes first....." "...um, excuse me? Goes first???" Mark asked, his voice all breathy. "What do you mean, 'Goes FIRST'???" The Coach shrugged non-challantly. "He stands in the middle, strips of his shorts, and 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 looked around at each of us. "--sound cool to you?" "Fuckin' A!" Tony grinned 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 looked tortured. "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 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'M the first one!" "I hope you are, too," Tommy smiled a sweet, beery smile at Chico. It made us all crack up, and 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 laughed, eyes fixed on my jockeys. "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 pubic bush. "It's the only hair on my body--so I really dig it!" "Sweet!" Tommy said. "I wish my bush looked like that!" Tension-breaking laughter filled the intimate room. "And here's my Danish cock," I smiled, getting into the fun of it. And I pushed my jockeys 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 jockeys down to my ankles and stepped out of them. Mark's face was beet red as I paraded my thick, big-headed dork 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 at everything as if starved. I dug my fingers down into my cockbush and ruffled through the soft curls. "See my nice bush, Tommy?" I asked quietly. "Go ahead--feel how nice and fluffy it is." Tommy's small hand trembled as he reached forward. 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. "See that?" He nodded, breathing deeply, his eyes glowing. I backed up into the room to let everyone watch my fat cock loll around, and there wasn't a peep as each guy stared at my naked, horny dick 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 and flexing my abs--feeling my skinrocket erect to full-tilted splendor. Wow!" Tommy breathed. I walzed my hugeness around the room 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 pure sex. I felt terrific--felt 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 walked to the kitchen counter, and rewarded myself by drinking a real, much-needed beer. "So who's got the 'Ten'?" I asked, my elbows up on the counter, my giant erection sticking out at them. No one seemed to want to do anything but stare at my body, making me laugh in appreciation. But now I really wanted to enjoy the others getting naked for my own horny pleasure. Tony got up from his chair, with everyone murmuring in approval that he was next. The dark Italian's jockeys were obscenely angular in obvious horniness, and his hunky, six-foot body reflected the light--pecs gleaming, white jockeys contrasting his mahogany skin. Tony smiled directly at Mark Wynn, who had the look of a deer caught in the headlights. "I'm not blond, am I, Mark?" It was more a statement than a question. The beefy, buzz-haired jock shook his head, eyes running from Tony's narrow waist, up his ab-ladder, across his smooth, sirloin-slabbed pecs, to Tony's shotput-sized delts. "This is Italian meat inside here," Tony said, pushing his narrow hips out at Mark. "See?--it's already hard." Mark said nothing, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "Give it a feel, man," Tony said, walking two steps closer. Mark hesitated, looking like he wanted to do exactly that, yet wasn't able to. "Come on," Tony said confidentially. "It's just my cock, Mark--and you've smacked my bare ass enough times...." Everyone laughed nervously, waiting to see what would happen next. Mark took a hurried, yet large swig of beer. And that in itself--all the beer he'd drunk, gave him just enough determination to actually reach his hand up. Yet Tony wasn't about to let him retreat quickly, and he took him by the wrist and plastered Mark's hand all over his white pouch. "Oh yeah," Tony said. "Feel my big, hard cucumber COCK? You're making it real real hot, Wynn!" From where I stood, all I could really see was Tony's muscular, round, white-jockeyed 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 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 stud said. "No problem!" And he brought both hands up to Tony's elastic waistband and pulled it out and then down. "Jesus", the Coach said, his face having to back away as Tony's giant, naked, mushroom-headed cock lurched-out in horny, happy freedom. Tony's jockeys were bunched around his muscular, hairy thighs as he showed off his naked, Italian salami. "You like my big, hard cock, Coach?" Tony smiled. "It's a beauty," he looked at it admiringly. "--a 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. 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 syncronized perfection--and hairy below. The effect was such that your eyes travelled over his rippling physique to then land on a black forest of cock-adoring bush. His enormous rod polevaulted out of that black, hairy nest like a dark, iron pipe, capped by a head the size of a baby apple. Tony waltzed around, purposely swaying his indignant weapon out at his admirers, walking up to each of us, and 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 fixed on 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 sything, stiff erection. "So," I said, winking at Tony-- handing him his bottle, "--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 as if he were about to give a piano recital. 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 were squeezing his tits into beestung 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 jockstrap looked ready to come apart from the pressure of his upthrusting 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 fullblown erection. I stared at his amazing twin, soccerball asscheeks-- encased by the straps of his jock, which were stretched over the round, hard, pink globes. In embarrassed nervousness, Mark simply reached down and pulled his stretched pouch open at the side. An audible hush filled the room as his uniquely-thick erection speared in the air, hampered by his binding jock pouch. "Oh, Jeez," Mark 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 said. "Show that stud cock OFF, Wynn!" Mark seemed to draw courage from the compliment and put his hands on his hips, flexing his beefy chest while sucking in his firm, concave stomach. A deep nest of soft, brown curls gushed in his defined vee at the base of his amazing dick. And in keeping with the rest of him, Mark's dick was beefy-- a perfect cylinder of erected meat, almost bigger around in girth than it was tall--a piston-shaped chunk with a huge, sweetly-pointed head capping it. And down below, his furry balls hugged the fat torpedo like two, 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 briefly brushed together. "Oh, God," Mark said, looking at mine and his nuzzling. "You must be proud of that whopper," I said. "I've never seen anything so big around!" Mark tried to laugh in casual appreciation. "My hand doesn't even do it," he said with turned-on excitement. "I'll bet," I answered, wanting nothing more than to try seeing if my fingers could handle its circumference. Mark's hard, round bare ass rose and fell 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 body. "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, tossing his full-sized, male basket in the air. His small hands came up to ruffle the hair on his chocolate-toned, meaty pecs, then he ran his fingers down over his hair-feathered, cleanly-defined abs. He grabbed his Speedo crotch--framing it with his spread fingers--and walked over to Coach Dan, showing off his bulging, red basket. "Here it is, Coach," he said. "And I'm going to rub it all over your chest!" The Coach sat up high to flex his hairy, meaty pecs. Chico's quad-blessed thighs stood out in bold relief as he 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 dick all over my tits, Chico!" Chico groaned hotly and ran his hands all over the Coach's pecs, loving their hairy, furry thickness and lingered a long time over his hot 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 super-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 ecstacy he began tossing his red Speedo, the very male 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 heat. "These are my oldest, most favorite Speedos," Chico announced. "See the holes?--see my big balls trying to poke through?" He laughed. "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 just ripped the fabric open--his half-full, coffee-colored cock falling out, his balls still trapped inside--laughing and throwing his big wang around like a sexy, dark banana. "I love being a little dude with a huge cock," he said. It was totally obscene--his Speedo ripped apart-- his mahogany 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 pleasure. 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. For there was nothing he liked better than smacking another stud's ass, and it seemed to re-awaken 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 while feeling it up. Still bent over, Chico reached both hands behind him, his fingers finding a thin spot in the nylon. "Have a REAL good look at it, Markie!" he said, suddenly ripping the whole seat apart. Mark's eyes popped at the sight of Chico's lightly-furred, naked ass jutting out from shreads of red material. Chico mooned the sexy spheres 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 limply over the base of his airborne, swollen, fuck muscle. There were no Speedos left--his cock standing at full-tilted attention, looking obscenely large on his beautifully-muscled, yet still innocently-boyish body. Chico walked the gigantic 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 little 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. "What a pair of BALLS!" Tommy exclaimed, still trying to free the thrusting rod. The cloth fluttered down Chico's furry legs to the floor. "You can touch 'em you know," Chico kicked aside his shredded Speedo. "They're real soft and warm, Tommy...." The teen's face turned pink as his fingers gently probbed the velvety skin of Chico's fat, fleecy, ultra-male lovesacs. "Oh, MAN," Tommy whispered, withdrawing his hand as though it were scorched. Chico grinned in horny appreciation and wagged his enormous dick at the Coach, then walked to Tony, then me, and finally showed Mark his pride-and-joy. "If it weren't for this little game of ours," Chico said, "I'd just do this sexy stuff for you all night!" He watched Mark staring at his naked, turned-on body. He seemed reluctant to sit down--and once he actually did, his oversized erection almost hit him in the chin! Tommy cleared his throat, then swallowed some beer and got up from the sofa. He handed me the 'King' of Hearts. And not only was the lithely-built boy with his sexy pecs hard inside his jockeys, there was a telltale wet stain spreading over the out-thrusted pouch. "I'm so turned-on, I think I'm gonna...." he stammered. "Take it slow," Coach Dan said quietly. "Oh God," Tommy breathed, feeling five pairs of eyes on him. His coral-pink nipples stood out, erected and taut, jutting upwards in the light. Tommy's muscles were baby-skin smooth, the skin creamy, like polished marble. "Oh, Coach," he whispered, "tell me what to do...." "Okay, baby--it's okay," the Coach's voice sounded deep and gentle. "Close your eyes--okay?" Tommy nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. "Now just relax, Tommy," the Coach said. "--and imagine you're all alone in the woods..." "Okay," Tommy smiled a bit. "....and no one is there but you, and the trees...and the sun is shining on your body through the leaves...." Tommy breathed deeply, his chest rising and falling, looking sexy and relaxed. "And, Tommy," the Coach went on, "you're all horny." "No kidding!" Tommy smiled, eyes still closed, his jockeys tented in arousal. "You're horny because you just like your big dick so much--and it's begging you to let it out of your shorts." Tommy laughed a little and put his hand down and pressed his fingers against his swollen boycock. "OOoooh," he sighed, "My big boner!" "Yeah," the Coach said, "Feel it? Isn't it great?" "Oh, yeah!" Tommy said, his voice husky. "Feels so hard--so horny! It's all wet..." The Coach sat back, his dark eyes watching every slight movement. Tommy sighed and then--eyes firmly shut--peeled his jockeys down over the top of his pink, pointy-headed, sweet-looking hardon. It was rosey in the lamplight, the glossy knob glistening with pre-cum. He pushed his shorts down to his knees and ran his fingertips up the straining, skin-blessed shaft, the whole seven inches looking brand new--right out of the box--surrounded by a lush bush of sandy-brown hair. Fat, juicy balls hung in their luxurious skinbag, coated with whispy fuzz between his hairless thighs. No one made a sound. Tommy rotated his hips, letting the jutting pole sway in stiff counterpoint--a cock to be proud of--very thick around at the base, tapering up at the top--and crowned by a big-lipped tulip bulb. Juice pearled at the tip of the spread open lips. The boy opened his eyes to see us staring in hushed awe, and then carefully walked around to give everyone a good view of his bursting-with-pride joystick. And I drank in the beauty of his peachy-smooth, round buttcheeks as he then sat back down beside the Coach. "Good show," Coach Dan said, putting his hand on the boy's knee. "God, thanks!" Tommy whispered, looking like he'd just conquered outer space. "Well!" the Coach said heartily. "I guess we know who's got the 'Ace'..." My eyes felt challenged, not knowing how to take in the whole of his wide-shouldered strength and power. His tiny bikini briefs hugged his narrow hips, hideously distended by a cock so hard and so enormous, the colossal head nearly ripping through. "Jesus God!" Tony said. Coach Dan brought his arms behind him to flex his eye-popping triceps, his movement making his distorted pouch angle outwards like a spinnaker sail in a storm. And then he smoothly swung into a double biceps pose--his arms becoming tremendous boulders--while then swinging those arms back behind him, clasping his hands just under his hard ass to flex his tits--the hairy mountains jumping independently of each other--his fingertip-sized nipples like a second pair of staring eyes. "Holy shit!" Mark said. "Check out those pecs!" The Coach laughed a bit and patted his thrusting briefs. "Want to see more?" he teased. "I can't stand it!" Chico hoarsely shouted. "I'm SO horny now! So HORNY!" The Coach slipped a finger down the inner seam of his pouch and teased both his hairy balls out, their lewdly-male potency hanging from the pulled-aside bikini. Gushes of rich, black hair poured from the exposed gap, and he patted his gigantic log of a cock. "You boys made me get hard inside here--see?" he said, smiling at our open-mouthed stares. And then he just slid both hands down into his waistband and fanned the material out and over his Cock-of-Cocks. It shot upward above his deep bellybutton, the huge, blunt-nosed head brushing his hairy abs, while endless folds of thick, juicy ballskin draped over two rocks the size of pomegranates, the bulging orbs covered in fleecy fur. It simply was the hairest, most erotically-male display I'd ever hoped to see! "Oh, Sweet Jesus!" Tony whispered. "That can't be for REAL! It just can't!" The Coach chuckled and seemed almost unable to pull his briefs completely off--his thunderous cock stabbing hotly at his tits and abs, looking haughty in its arousal. And finally he stood up again and looked at us staring at him. "I'm a hairy bastard, huh?" he said, digging his fingers into his jungle-of-a-cockbush. "Sexy as hell, Coach," Mark Wynn muttered. "Look at that COCK!" "Glad you like it, dudes," the Coach said, waltzing his incredible Titan around the room. "--like the rest of you, it's sometimes embarrassing when it decides to do THIS," he waved it stiffly about, showing off its hardness. "--but we wouldn't want to trade them in for a smaller model, now would we?" "God, no," Chico stared. It was way more male than any of our young cocks-- a man's cock--a he-man's, bigass, Amazon Cock--veiny, bulging, hair-wreathed, thumping, pulsing COCK!--arching, preening, throbbing before him like a proud weapon, the head flared and deep-toned. The Coach ran his palms over his hairy, generously-full pecs, his huge biceps rolling, "Guys like us should be proud of our big cocks," he said, making his flex hotly at Chico. "But you know what really turns me on?" "Oh man," Chico sighed, staring, "What, Coach?" The Coach dropped his arm and dug his hand into his thickly-forested vee. "...a nice fat set of THESE," he grunted. "Your balls," Chico whispered, watching the Coach pull his hairy billiards forward in his palm. "Damn right!" he fondled his sexy hang. "Like 'em?" he asked. Everyone stared hypnotically, watching the huge eggs tumble loosely around in his large hand, their weight and size making them fall over the sides like ripe avacadoes. "Come on, guys," his voice was deep and quiet. "Help me play with my big, hairy balls..." Chico didn't need a second invitation, immediately sliding from his chair to his knees, his face only inches from the furry velvet of Coach Dan's naked, male nuts. Tony came over behind Chico--his huge cock wet and throbbing--and, as he reached out to have a feel of that stud hang, his own ample bag draped over Chico's curly-haired head. This made Chico lift his face to suddenly lick at Tony's sac, his eyes slitted with passion. Tony grunted, then grabbed Coach Dan's purse of goodies, the bag so full of sex, Tony needed both hands. I then came behind the Coach, mezmerized by his full-sized, beachball butt, my hard cock glancing over the deeply-divided, solidly-muscular rounds. "Oh, yeah," he turned to stare into my blue eyes, "Rub my big, hard ass! Rub it with your big, blond cock, Jordan..." I swooned at his words--at the feeling racing up my torched rod--at the almost feminine softness of that whispy hair covering those totally-masculine swells, as it caressed my tingling shaft. And I drew his narrow hips back with both hands, sliding my wet, slick tool up his deep divide. Chico slurped Tony's balls, the sound wet and sloppy, and Tony moaned, his cock lurching around, his hands full of the Coach's fat nuts. "Get over here, you two," Coach Dan stared at Tommy and Mark. "Play with my big, hairy tits..." Mark Wynn looked tortured, his face flushed with carnal lust, his beercan-sized cock dripping pre-cum like a spigot. "Oh Jesus," he whispered harshly. "I can't take this sexy shit, man!" he confessed to Tommy, looking helpless. "M-Me, too," Tommy said, moving in to Mark, his nipples all pink and stiff--his boycock dancing all by itself in heat. Mark groaned as Tommy came closer, then lunged his face into the shocked teen's pec valley, licking the buttery skin. And then Mark latched onto one of Tommy's hot cones, sucking like a starving baby. Tommy's head fell back, his hand reaching out to force Mark's mouth further onto his sweet tit. "Oh, God, Markie," he whispered, his other hand falling down to find the jock's huge-around cock. Mark's hips shot out into Tommy's grip, his whole body going rigid. He came off the boy's chest in astonished surprise, staring at the small fingers trying to encompass his iron-hard bar. "Fuck! You're holding my COCK!" Mark's hips pumped into Tommy's massaging hand, pistoning his hugeness into the boy's inadequate grip. We stared at the sight--Tommy's face beet red and lusty, his fingers unable to grasp it all, and Mark trembling, his legs bent at the knees--his hips out of control--his balls slogging below Tommy's challenged hand. Mark's eyes flew open, and, just in the nick of time, the big jock pulled free of Tommy, his cock drooling and spasming. "Take a deep breath," the Coach advised, "We gotta pace ourselves--the night's still young...." Tommy walked his own rockhard erection over to us, leaving Mark, as he then stared at the Coach's chest. "Go on. I said you could play with 'em," the Coach sounded gruff, while he flexed his tits. Tommy's hand was small and pale as his fingers combed through the forest of chesthair, and the Coach flexed his chest outward into Tommy's small palm, feeding the boy more meaty muscle. "Smack 'em, Tom-boy," he growled. "Get a little rough!" Tommy's boycock rode up the Coach's hairy thigh, massaging itself as his hand experimentally tried to spank the furry mountains, his slaps sounding childish against all that power. "Get over here, Wynn," Coach Dan ordered. Mark's eyes narrowed in lust as he looked at me shimmying my hard cock over the swells of the muscle-coach's furry ass--my right arm flung around his narrow waist, my baby finger buried in the cave of the Coach's bellybutton. And I moaned, my face pressing into the arch of that amazing back, and I kissed and licked the Coach's tanned skin. Tony's cock pulsed at a rakish angle above Chico's scalp, his balls all over Chico's forehead. And Tony was busy feeding Chico the Coach's huge balls as the little Latino drooled all over the hairy orbs and sucked each one in turn. Mark's cock was a huge piston of upthrusting heat, the fat head still dripping juice on the floor as he walked the twitching beast over to the other side of the Coach. "You dig this sexy shit, huh, Wynn?" Coach Dan looked down at Mark's slippery rod. "You look ready to pop your cork!" "No one's ever touched my cock before," Mark whimpered with lust, staring at the Coach's chest. The Coach brought his large hand behind Mark's brush-cutted head and forced the dark-blond jock's mouth onto his swollen, right nipple. "Have some hot tits, Wynn--get into the action..." Mark moaned and sucked greedily on the thick slab, making Coach Dan laugh at the sight of his boy-lavished body, while locking both biceps around the necks of Tommy and Mark, forcing their mouths even further onto his rivet-sized nipples. The Coach felt me licking at the broad nape of his bullneck--my cock wedging up between his basketball cheeks--and suddenly jerked his face around to speer his tongue out against mine. And I moaned and swordplayed with his, then dove past to nibble at his earlobe. "Oh Jesus, buddy," the Coach husked, "--that's my spot..." Suddenly Chico stood up, coming between Mark and Tommy, making everyone jockey around for somewhere to be. "Get over here, Jordan," the Coach said to me, "We're all gonna blow..." And I wedged myself between Tony and Chico, staring down into a bouquet of cocks, speering into the center. We thwacked those hard cocks, wincing and moaning--pre-cum spurting out our open-O cocklips, sleucing over the fat heads--creating a steamy slapping sound, the aroma of man and boys filling the cabin. And we locked arms, our hands all over one another's flexing asscheeks, grunting at our clashing javelins, thrilling at the sensations rifling up our big rods. "Look at all that hard COCK," the Coach whispered hotly. And his was twice the size of ours, barely moving under everyone else's assault, as hips swivelled and cocks glanced and bruised each other in a tortured tango of ripe, horny, erected meat. "Now dig a hand in and grab the balls of the guy on your right," the Coach muttered. Fascinated and eager, I fumbled my fingers down beside me and then froze as Chico's hand grabbed my bag, the feeling too erotic to handle. "Ohhh," I moaned, reaching down and finally finding Tony's warm, furry jewels. "Oh, Jesus," Tony's knees bent. "My BALLS," Mark Wynn yelled, never having had anyone clutch his naked rocks before. Tommy was fondling Mark's blond-furred sac, while the Coach was cupping Tommy's. "Take 'em, Wynn," the Coach ordered, feeling left out. And Mark gasped and moaned, just able to reach his shaky hand under the tremendous hang of the Coach's furry peaches. The dark-blond jock seemed too turned-on to know what was happening. "Oh my god, Coach!" he shuddered. "They're huge!" "Fuckin' hot--you playing with my nuts," the Coach husked. "Give `em a pull, damn it, Wynn!" Mark looked flushed and dazed, and when he yanked those hairy bells, suddenly everyone did the same, pleasured howls filling the air as balls stretched and thick boners careened about above them. Mark Wynn's hips began jerking around wildly as Tony pulled the hefty weight of the big jock's blond lovesacs. "Take a cock," the Coach said. No sooner did Mark find the Coach's Monster Cock than Tony wrapped his fingers over Mark's, and Mark's mouth opened and closed like a fish in a boat, his beefy body trembling, his nipples bloating like rubber bullets. The Coach recognized all the signs and suddenly used his tremendous arms to part our cock-fisting circle. And we stood at either side of the Coach and Mark Wynn--Mark looking like a turned-on naked slave before a hairy, cock-erected Lord of the Jungle--their two lancing totems standing at attention, inches apart, throbbing at one another. "--'s'matter, Wynn? No dude ever played with your dick and balls before?" Mark shook his head, his eyes big and nervous. "N-no, Coach!" "Then I'll bet no heavy-hung stud has ever done THIS to you either," he dropped to his knees and suddenly licked Mark's piston-sized, mushroom-capped, dripping cock. "FUCK!" Mark shouted, backing up. Coach Dan's arms shot out and clamped around the beefy jock's blond-furry thighs, drawing him closer, and he stared at Mark's straight-as-an-arrow slab of drooling dick and blew a stream of cool air over the simmering, glassy head with its open hole. I swear to god I saw steam rising from it. "Jesus!" Mark struggled. I watched the Coach's large hands slap each of Mark's asscheeks--watched the Coach's full lips part-- watched Mark's on-fire, big, beercan-sized cock disappear into the Coach's hot, wet mouth, his unshaven face buried in dark-blond cockbush. Mark howled--his hands clamping over the Coach's head--his hips driving his cock deep into the Coach's swallowing throat. And the Coach sucked that girth-blessed chunk of cock wetly, his cheeks denting as he vacuum-sealed the whole thing while Mark stared and quivered and whimpered. Tommy was masturbating like mad--lust flushing his cupid face--his balls flying, his boycock bumping and rubbing the Coach's bicep. Chico backed his little ass up against my lusty cock--then bent over, hands on knees--and tossed those melons of his up-and-down, searing my steamy meat til it juiced. Tony walked his hard dong over to Chico's bent-over face and swiped his wet erection all over the little Argentinian's big, Latin lips. I stared at the Coach slobbering Mark's virgin cock--at the in-and-out of that huge dick pumping the Coach's masculine mouth--at Mark gyrating his hips, gasping for air, looking lost in space, plowing the Coach's throat. "Awww!" he shouted hoarsely, "Awwwww FUCKKKK!" In agitated alarm, Mark suddenly pulled his giant, wet erection free, only to watch it lurch around, cannonading a fountain of cream all over the Coach's face. The spurting throbber reared and bucked, pumping hot jizz-jets over the Coach's jaw and lips. And the Coach dove over the flowing cock to take it back down his throat while Mark's body jumped and flexed as he shouted obscenties. Tommy suddenly froze and then let loose a gyser of boyjizz onto the Coach's bigass bicep, his tongue lolling out, making Tony, Chico and I gather around and fist ourselves over the erotic sight. "Que hermoso!! Es un perro!" Chico shouted, moving quickly to aim his hot banana at Mark's rockhard, naked ass, then tensing-up as fountains of Latin leche roped over those pink, shiny globes. I stared in my frantic cock-flogging to watch Tony take aim, shudder, then groan as his skincannon flexed to twice its size, then erupt--white cum sailing out--hitting the Coach's hairy tits and shoulders. I felt my balls gather into a leathery bundle, my cockbush standing-up, electrified, and stared at Chico's brown bubblebutt in sheer lust, watching my fisting hand suddenly pump out a pint of gymnast jizz striping Chico's cheeks--tremors of mind-blowing orgasmn rifling through my body--my cock leaping in my grip, reloading and snorting. Before I'd even stopped spurting, we were urging Coach Dan to his feet, Tommy and Mark pushing their faces into his pillowing, hairy pecs, chewing his nipples. Chico fell to his knees, then bent backwards, face upraised to lick at the Coach's bigass, hairy balls. And Tony and I each grabbed hold of his velvet-encased, iron-hard King Cock--me taking the upper half--pounding it mercilessly, while reaching around his back to play with his big, round ass. "Awwwh, fuck!" he groaned as I leaned past Mark's head to tongue Coach Dan's earlobe. And his juicing cockhead turned to polished marble as the loose shaft-skin rode up to kiss the flaring flange, the open mouth issuing a steady stream of pre-orgasmic candy. Chico felt those low-hangers suddenly rise-up into a leathery, grapefruit-sized purse, warning of what was about to erupt. And the little Latin simply bit into the puckering bag, gumming the sexy skin, making the Coach howl and quake. His hot-and-horny rod swelled and throbbed, the whole, hunky thing bucking around like a wild animal til it suddenly turned to steel and exploded. "UHHHHHUUUUUGGGH!" The Coach went into catatonic spasms of lust, his tits expanding to the point where Tommy and Mark could only back away and stare at our Herculean Coach being seized in an ecstatsy of orgasmic thrills. Cum volcanoed out his Titan Missle, splatting Chico's upraised torso, coating the little Latin's furry pecs, dripping off his baby-cock nipples. "Oh fuck, Oh fuck, Oh, fuck...I can't stop!-- can't stop cumming!" The Coach's biceps bouldered in heat, his giant cock spraying the whole room, his body rigid in its overwhelming power and potent release. And then we were kissing him, massaging his muscles even as Tony was heading for the back door. "Come on!" he yelled, his lolling cock dripping cum all over the floor as he ran for the hot tub. ************************************************** posingstrap@hotmail.com