One minute later--not even a minute later--I could see written on Tim and Julio's faces the unmistakable look of confused guilt. Only Jerome flashed me a big grin of satisfaction as he rose up and squeezed a few more dribbles from his huge black schlong.
"Where's the bathroom?" Julio asked, quickly retrieving his clothes.
"Down the hall, on the right," I watched his furry bubble butt as he headed off.
"I can't believe that just happened!" Tim looked flushed and dazed, his big pecs coated with a sheen of sweat.
"Don't start with that shit, boo. You knows you was into it," Jerome sat heavily into a chair, his tubular meat flopping over one thigh. He played with his huge balls and sized Tim up.
"I - I guess so...."
"WhatEVA', dude, ok? If you was faking THAT, then your ass gets the Oscar, baby!"
Not wanting to get involved, I picked up my clothes, went into the kitchen and absently used a J-cloth at the sink to wipe cum shots off my torso. Climbing back into my tank top and shorts--not bothering with the jockstrap--I watched Julio come past and Tim quickly take over the bathroom.
As everyone got showered and dressed, I put them to work getting the barbeque going and setting the table out on the lawn near the hot tub. With two-inch-thick steaks and lots of salad and the surprising warmth of that early evening May sun, Tim and Julio's good humor returned.
I once again praised myself for having bought not just one case of beer, but two. No one wanted to sober up, and as I kept heading back to the kitchen for replacements, I'd come back to find them more and more animated and merry.
"Do you ever go back to Brazil?" Tim's demeanor had changed, his face looking more settled and confident.
"I went there two years ago for the first time since I was a kid," Julio smiled over at him, "--there's more gyms there than supermarkets."
"I seen pitchers of that Mardi Gras thing--that bigass Carnival show. Shit! Ever'one's trompin' down th' streets almost bareass!" Jerome sat regally in his chair, beer in hand, his big brown eyes twinkling.
Julio laughed, shaking his dark, handsome head, "--on the beaches, too!--not exactly 'bareass'--but Jesus--the guys are more into bikinis than th' babes."
"--Struttin' their stuff, huh, man?" Jerome's eyes flirted with Julio. At first I wasn't sure, but when Julio's eyes dropped down to check out Jerome's tank-topped chest, I felt a horny thrill ride up my spine.
"--you did it, too, I'll bet," Tim said, no longer bashful. "--'strutted yo' stuff'," he mimicked Jerome, smiling.
"Hey brotha'--I can see you doin' it!--your little pink, sparkly thong T-barrin' yo' cakes in half--your big package bouncin' out there--shiiit!"
Tim looked proud of the compliment, pulling out his waistband and peeking inside. "Whiteboy big, maybe--but now, YOU in a pink thong?--you'd get arrested!"
"--mobbed, you mean," Julio looked across the table between Jerome's spread open legs. "--and not only by th' chicks....."
"....if them dudes're anythin' like YOU," Jerome looked at each of us, "--I'd be doin' th' DL right there on the beach!" He flashed his full-lipped smile and swigged his beer.
"--the 'DL'?--what's that?" I asked.
"--the DL?--" Jerome chuckled. "--means 'down low' in 'hood jive, baby--black bro's who don' mind gettin' into otha' brotha's sometimes."
In the silence that followed, our eyes drifted all over each other's beefcake bodies, enjoying the shape and size of big-biceped arms and shirt-stretching pecs.
"Do YOU have any 'DL' brothers?" Tim brazenly looked Jerome in the eye.
Jerome took his time--taking a slug of beer, then putting it back on the table. He leaned back in his chair and splayed open his giant black thighs.
"I do NOW," he felt up his full, red gym short basket, "--don' I brotha'?"
I expected Tim to turn red in the face and look away. Instead he stared at Jerome's lewd groping. "What's happening to me??--is it the air?--the beer?--I've never been so horny in my life!"
Julio nodded even as he swigged, "Same here--we're never like this at the gym--checkin' each other out, getting each other all horny-- I'm married, for Christ's sake!" He shook his head, but then caught Jerome's eye and smiled and then grinned in spite of himself, still shaking his head.
Jerome held his bottle up to the orangey, setting sun, examining it. We watched him intently.
"Yes," he finally pronounced.
"Yes, what?" Tim stared at him, his youthful face full of expectation.
"It's the beer."
We all busted out in tension-relieving, gut wrenching laughter, slapping our thighs.
When it died down Jerome looked at us across the table. "Alot'a dudes don' give a shit how they look. When you're at a bar, or even walkin' around, how many d'y'see built like us?"
I shrugged. "None. In our city?--none. Well, maybe one or two, like a few athletes in the parks--but even they aren't built like us."
"--so, why do we bother? Our women don' care--I know mine don't!--she's sayin' I'm TOO big--bitchin' over how I take up th' whole damn bed..."
"Shiela makes fun of me," Tim grinned sheepishly. "--calls me 'Narcissus' and 'Musclehead'."
"Brenda couldn't care less what I look like."
Jerome nodded sagely, then stood up. We looked at his huge, perfectly proportioned, six-foot-two physique--at the power in his chest and arms and shoulders--at how all that muscle cinched-down to a 30" waist, only to bulge anew in his stallion-sized thighs. All of it was articulated by a network of beautifully-accentuated veins. "I'm gonna tell you why we keep pumpin' th' iron, bro's." He took hold of the bottom of his shirt and peeled it up and off his nappy, close-cropped head. Tossing it on the grass, Jerome put his hands on his waist, sucked in his abs and spread his cobra lats, his chest expanding into two, carved, meaty, big-nippled mountains. "It's cuz we look so fuckin' gooood, huh?--we look at ourselves in th' mirror aft'a a shower, an'--mmmmm,MMM!--what we see is HOT, huh?"
Jerome lifted his right arm into an eye-popping 18" boulder, the setting sun glimmering over the planes and valleys of his 230 lb. musculature, his black body shimmering in the golden light.
"Take 'em off, man--c'mon--"
"Yeah--" Tim said, "--I'm so f 'ing horny now...take 'em OFF!"
Jerome neither chuckled nor joked over hearing this. He knew he was sexy--knew he was turning us on, and teased his red shorts down his endless, taut lower belly past his kinky wedge of cockhair, slowly feeding our hungry eyes with the girth and heft of his giant, dark dong--over the shape and beauty of its vein-pulsing length, until the thickly-lipped, heart-shaped, open-mouthed head plopped free, lolling against his gorgeously-black, generous-skinned male guavas. "Oh yeah, brotha's--see all that?--"
He rid himself of his shorts, our eyes planted on the flopping heaviness of his mammoth, half-aroused meat as he pulled his shorts off his large, shapely feet. "--it takes men like US t' appreciate men like US, huh?" He swivelled his hips, finally smiling, watching our eyes shift back-and-forth as his tubular schlong slapped his flexing thighs, the meaty sound ringing in the cool, evening air.
"My bigboy's is gettin' all hard, seein' you muscle studs admirin' it."
The hunky ten-incher swelled as it slapped--using his generous ballskin to sheath its billyclub girth--the head expanding into a shiny, glowing helmet-- the flopping shaft angling upward till it stiffened and careened almost a foot out from his hairy vee like an out-of-control muscular third arm.
"Goddamn!" Julio breathed.
"That sun's goin' down fast, brotha's," Jerome strode out onto the lawn, his lancing whopper swaying majestically from his beautiful, lush bush. "Why don't we parade aroun' these stud physiques?"
Julio and Tim hurried to strip down, while I feasted my eyes on the sight of Jerome's wide-shouldered, V-shaped, narrow-waisted, bubble-butted, nude body, rippling in the orangey sun as he walked towards the tall pines ringing my yard.
Soon it was like my own private, beefcake nudist colony as Tim strolled toward the hot tub, his 5'10", tanned, tightly muscled, gymbuilt physique gleaming. A gymnast in college, Tim had a bullneck and enormous, articulated shoulders, with the biceps, triceps, lats and pecs to match. His abs stood out in a true six pac, his intercostals swooping down in an erotic, pelvic V, disappearing in the cottoncandy wheatfield of his crotch.
Tim's beercan, pink mushroom-headed cock tocked stiffy straight up out of his golden bush, his tennisball scrotum hugging the base, between his stocky, golden-furred thighs. When he turned, his cute, pert asschecks bounced from his waist like two ripe melons.
Julio's curvy nine-incher jounced from his bushy-black cockhair like a big, mahogany plantain, his hairy balls thudding his dark, furry thighs. His huge, hairy pecs curled from his collarbone like breakers on the ocean--nipples tilting upwards through the curls--and his abs undulated down his endless torso as he walked, panther-like, towards Tim.
Jerome was becoming more difficult to see against the pines--the sun truly setting, throwing purple shadows over the lawn--as dusk descended and the air turned chill. He walked--solid hard erection scything ten inches in front of him--towards the others, and I knew it was time to fire up the hot tub.
After getting it going, I switched on the underwater lights to their 'oohs and ahhs'. The sky seemed to disappear, and the trees move in closer, as the bubbling, turquoise water lit up our own private spa. Dug into the ground, the octagonal, three-foot-deep tub featured raised, three-foot-wide cedar decking, with four steps on either side leading down into the swirling water. A submerged shelf-like seat allowed a person to sit and relax, feet outstretched into the bubbling center.
Forget the yard, the river, woods, and even the log cabin--it was this idyllic, soothing feature that made me sign the lease. Commuting in from the city, I'd start stripping even before reaching the secluded drive--eager to begin my naked weekend, knowing I was alone--knowing no one would see me throwing a big ol' hardon as I whacked off in my hot tub under the stars.
But that was just it. I was alone--alone up till then--up until Tim, Julio and Jerome agreed to join me. And on that Friday evening--the steam rising into the late May evening air--the blue-green light playing over their nude, hard-cocked, chiselled bodies, my heart pounded fresh blood into my straining, twitching eight-incher.
"Fuck, that's beautiful!" Julio pulled on his ample, fur-sprinkled balls, staring down into the waiting water.
"Just in time, too, huh?--Jesus, it's gettin' cold out here," Jerome looked like an African god--the glowing lights dancing over his nakedness, his nipples standing out from his half-melon pecs like two thumbs.
