Naked Gymnast Weekend

We fell into a threeway kiss--the hot tub bubbling away--the October breezes blowing chill air across our steaming muscles.  Tony and Chico lapped their own fresh cum off my face, then fell laughing and panting beside me.

We lay back against the tub--staring up at the night sky--reliving what had all just happened--and then  turned together, hugging one another like the satiated, happy friends—and now lovers--we'd all grown to beautifully become.

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

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

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

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

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

I reached out and stopped him.  "No, wait...I mean, if we’re breaking all the rules by doing this shit, then hell--we can't be the only ones...."

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

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

"What?"  Chico laughed.  "--you think David Spencer is fooling around with someone?!"

I shrugged.  "--wouldn't shock me."

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

"Mark Wynn!" Tony hooted.

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

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

"I'll bet they're getting it on with someone--just probably not with each other...."

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

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

"No! --seriously?" Chico's cute face lit up with excitement.

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

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

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

"... if we invite the right guys, it could get interesting, though," I gave Chico's submerged dong a horny tug.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who would you invite, Chico...besides Coach Dan?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You lie!" Tony scoffed.

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

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

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

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

"Who would YOU like?" Chico asked me. 

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

Tony punched my bicep.  "So, who already?  C'mon…!"

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

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

"Joker – you’ve had too many beers!" Tony laughed.

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

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

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

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

"Wow!" Chico said.  "This is getting in-ter-es-ting!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

                                           *            *            *            *            *            *

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was Tony's cue.  "Call me nuts or something," he said, smiling and shrugging, "--but does anyone else feel like going for a swim?"  He pulled at his shirt.  "I'm beginning to get sweaty!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Jesus Christ," the Coach said.  "What've you got in there, Chico??"

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

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

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

Coach Dan was now shirtless, folding his jeans, wearing only a pair of white bikini briefs.  The pouch was jam-packed with dick and balls, dark pubic bush poking from the out-stretched top.  The fabric translucently revealed the pressed-out shape of a beautiful, huge cockhead and the weight of all the Coach had hanging turned his pair of briefs into a bulging thong, impossible for anyone not to stare at.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was Mark Wynn who unexpectedly stalled things.  "Look," he said.  "--are we really gonna go swim in the LAKE?"  He spoke to the Coach, as if appealing to an adult’s sensibility.  "It's pitch dark out there!" he muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, this sure the fuck ain't one of 'em, Wynn," the Coach countered.  "If there were chicks here--well, that's a whole different ballgame, huh?" He ran a large hand over his huge, hairy muscle tits.  "But hell, we're just a bunch of guys proud of what we got!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Again, tension-breaking laughter filled the intimate room.

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

Approving sighs hit the air.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He almost stopped breathing, his eyes glowing.

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

"Pose," Coach Dan said.

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

“Wow!" Tommy whispered.

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

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

"So…”, I broke the spell.  “Who's got the 'Ten' –let’s see some more hard cock!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do it again, man," Chico smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"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 feel 'em up you know," Chico kicked aside his shredded Speedo.  "They're real soft and full of cum, Tommy...."

The teen's face turned pink as his fingers gently probed the velvety skin of Chico's fat, fleecy, ultra-male lovesacs.  "Oh, MAN," Tommy whispered.

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 eighteen-year-old with his sexy pecs hard inside his jockeys, but there was also a telltale wet stain spreading over the out-thrusted pouch.  "I'm so turned-on, I think I'm gonna...." he stammered.

"Just…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 now 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."

"Yeah.  Yeah, I am," Tommy smiled, eyes still closed, his jockeys almost ridiculously tented in arousal.

"You're horny because you just love 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 teen cock.  "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 leaking.  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, smooth-knobbed, sweet-looking hardon.  It was rosy in the lamplight, the glossy bulb 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 luxuriously draped bag, coated with wispy 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 deeply-lipped flaring bulb.  Juice pearled at the hole in the spread open lips.

The boy opened his eyes to see us staring in hushed awe, and then proudly 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 butt cheeks as he then sat back down beside the Coach.

"Good show," Coach Dan said, putting his hand on the teen's knee.

"God, thanks!" Tommy whispered, looking like he'd just conquered Mount Everest.

"Well!" the Coach said heartily.  "I guess we now know who's got the 'Ace'..."

My eyes felt challenged, not knowing how to take in the whole of his tall, wide-shouldered strength and power.  His tiny bikini briefs hugged his narrow hips, distended by a cock so hard and so enormous, the colossal head nearly ripped through.

"Jesus God!" Tony breathed out.

Coach Dan brought his arms behind him to flex his eye-popping triceps while displaying his deep, hairy pits, his movement making his distorted pouch angle outwards like a spinnaker sail.  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.

"Oh fuck, oh FUCK!" Mark said.  "Check THAT out!"

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 plump lewd maleness 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 gaping mouths.

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 testicles the size of pomegranates, the bulging orbs covered in fleecy fur.

It simply was the hairiest, most erotically-male pornographic display even my imagination couldn’t compete with.

"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 and indignant.  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, strolling 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—a thick-veined, bulging, hair-wreathed, thumping, pulsing COCK! --arching, preening, throbbing out before him like the peacock of cocks, the head flared and deep-toned.

The Coach ran his palms over his hairy, generously-full pecs, 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 ovals 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 guavas.

"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 and heat of Coach Dan's naked, male nuts.

Tony came over behind Chico--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 wantonly lick at Tony's lovesacs, dark eyes slitting 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, mesmerized 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, blondhairy cock, Jordan..."

I swooned at his words--at the feeling racing up my torched rod--at the almost feminine softness of that wispy hair covering those ulta-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 furry divide.

Chico slurped Tony's balls, the sound wet and sloppy, and Tony moaned, his cock lurching around, his hands busy with the Coach's fat nuts.

"Get over here, you two," Coach Dan stared at Tommy and Mark.  "Play with my big furry muscletits..."

Mark Wynn looked tortured, his face flushed with carnal lust, his beer can-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 to Mark, his nipples all pink and stiff--his boycock dancing and twitching 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, suckling like a piglet.

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 girth-blessed cock.

Mark's hips thrust 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 with newfound lust, 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—enjoy it...."

Tommy walked his own rock-hard 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 worshipped the forested chest; 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 lecherously watching me shimmying my hard cock over the swells of the muscle-coach's split cheeks, my right arm flung around his narrow waist, my baby finger buried in the cave of the Coach's hunky navel.  And I moaned, my face pressing into the arch of that amazing back, kissing and laving the Coach's tanned skin with the flat of my tongue.

Tony's cock pulsed at a rakish angle above Chico's scalp, his balls tea-bagging 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 slurped at each in turn.

Mark's cock was a huge piston of up-thrusting heat, the fat head juicing up the floor as he walked the twitching beast over to the other side of the Coach.

"You dig this sexy shit, don’cha, 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 nursed greedily on the thickly carved slab, making Coach Dan laugh at the sight of his gymnast-lavished body, while locking both biceps around the necks of Tommy and Mark, forcing their mouths even further onto his cork-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 spear his tongue deep inside my panting mouth.  And I moaned and sword played with his, then dove past to chew 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, Jensen," 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 jabbing into the center.

We thwacked those hard cocks, wincing and moaning--pre-cum spurting out our open-O cocklips, sluicing 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, cocks glanced, bruising themselves 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 hang.

"Oh, Jesus," Tony's knees bent.

"My BALLS," Mark Wynn yelled, never having had anyone clutch his naked rocks before, either.

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 playin’ 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 haughtily above them.

Mark Wynn's hips began jerking around wildly as Tony pulled the hefty weight of the big jock's blond lovesac.

"Take a cock," the Coach said.

No sooner did Mark find the Coach's Monster Cock than Tony wrapped his fingers over Mark's, whose mouth opened and closed like a caught fish, his beefy body trembling, rubber bullet nipples bloating in heat.

Coach Dan 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 sex slave before a hairy, phallusized 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, 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 and dripping cock.

"FUCK!" Mark backed up.

Coach Dan's arms shot out and clamped around the beefy jock's blond-furry cheeks, drawing him back in.  He stared at Mark's straight-as-an-arrow slab of drooling dick, then blew a stream of cool air over the shimmering, glassy head with its candying hole. 

I swear to god I saw steam rising from it!  "Oh, Jesus!" Mark whimpered, his beefy thighs trembling over the sight and sensations.

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, pulsing beercan-of-a-cock disappear into the Coach's hot wet mouth and his unshaven face bury itself in Mark’s pile of dark-blond bush.

Mark howled--hands clamping over the Coach's head--hips driving his cock deep into the Coach's swallowing throat.  And the Coach sucked that girth-blessed chunk of pork wetly, his cheeks denting as he vacuum-sealed the whole thing while Mark stared and quivered and whimpered, his head thrown back, his face a masque of pure lust.

Tommy was masturbating himself like mad—blood flushing his cupid face--balls flying, boycock bumping and rubbing the Coach's cocksucking bicep.

Chico backed his little ass up against my pussy-needy cock--then bent over, hands on knees--and tossed those furry melons of his up-and-down, searing my steamy meat till 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, Coach!! FUCKKKK!!!", and in agitated alarm, Mark suddenly pulled his giant, wet erection free, only to watch it lurch around, cannonading a fountain of steamy cream.

The spurting throbber reared and bucked, pumping hot jizz-jets over Coach's grizzled jaw and lapping lips.  And the Coach dove over the fucker to take it back down his throat while Mark shouted obscenities, his body spasming out yet more cum.

Tommy suddenly froze and winced in agonized recognition before letting loose a geyser of teen jizz onto the Coach's bigass bicep, his tongue lolling out, making Tony, Chico and I gather around and fist ourselves over the lewd scene.

"Que hermoso!!  Es un perro!" Chico shouted, moving quickly to aim his hot chorizo at Mark's rock-hard, 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 skin cannon flexed to twice its size, then erupt--white cum sailing out--splatting the Coach's hairy tits and shoulders.

I felt my balls gather into a leathery bundle, my cockbush electrified, staring down at Chico's brown bubble butt in crazed lust, watching my fisting hand suddenly pump out a pint of gymnast jizz, striping Chico's hard cheeks--tremors of mind-blowing orgasm rifling through my body--my cock leaping in my grip, reloading, and snorting out more.

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 those babycock nipples. 

Chico fell to his knees, then bent backwards, face upraised to lick and lave the Coach's low hangers, gumming and tugging the velvety skin.  And Tony and I each grabbed hold of his thick-veined, iron-hard King Cock--me taking the upper half—pounding it mercilessly, with me reaching down and underneath to rub deeply into his hair-feathered, steamy taint.

"Awwwh, fuck!" he groaned as I leaned past Mark's head to tongue and chew Coach Dan's earlobe.  And his juicing cockhead turned to polished marble as we kept frictioning the loose shaft skin frictioned  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 in alarmed warning, making him dare to simply bite into the puckering bag, gumming the sexy skin, making the Coach howl and quake.

His hot-and-horny rod swelled and throbbed, the whole, gargantuan thing bucking around like a wild animal till it suddenly turned to steel and exploded!  "UHHHHHUUUUUGGGH!"  The Coach went into seizing 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 convulsions of ecstatic, orgasmic thrills.

Cum volcanoed out his Titan Missile, splatting Chico's upraised torso, coating the little Latin's furry pecs, dripping off his lust-swollen nipples.

"Ohfuckohfuckohfuck...I can't stop! -- can't stop cumming!"  His giant biceps bouldered in heat, his firehose 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, making straight for the steaming tub.