Naed Gymnast Weeend -

I re-entered Heaven, my hands gripping Dan's rough jaw as I fed him my tongue and felt my cock glow thickly against his lightly-haired abdominals. His biceps held me in a vice grip against his big-nippled tits.

I lifted my head. "Um, Dan?"

"What, Jordie?"

"You and Tommy....are you--I mean--you know...?"

"....

together

??" He looked a bit surprised.

"Um, yeah," I felt my neck burning, suddenly feeling silly.

"Hell, no!" he said, bulging his solid arms. "I just look out for him. He's just a kid...."

"Yeah," I grinned happily. "A kid."

"--a HOT kid, you gotta admit!..." the Coach grinned.

"No shit," I laughed, brushing back the Coach's wavy curl.

"Not to mention the hot water that would land me in. I mean, let's be clear here on that score... I'm not hired or paid by the college to coach. I coach as a gift back to the school as an alum, so I'm not, like, faculty, or anything even close. I'm my own agent. But

fuck

...he's in high school, and for that reason alone it's a recipe for disaster." I nodded slowly, all of it sinking in. "I mean, fuck, Jordie. Me and Tommy? That would be wrong on so many levels, I cringe just thinking about it."

There was a lull, both of us lost in thought, mulling over all that has happened since the party started.

"YOU got somethin' going?" he then asked quietly. "—you know, with.....?"

".... Chico? Tony?"

"Yeah."

I shook my head, feeling tremendous all of a sudden. "They're buddies."

"--

just

...'buddies'?"

"Yeah--just buddies," I stopped myself from hoping where this line of questioning would lead. "Though after this weekend, 'fuck buddies' would be more accurate," I laughed.

He flashed his thickly-lashed eyes at me. "I have two questions," he said then.

"Shoot," I held his gaze.

"Number one--you think we'd make a good pair?"

I almost blinked yet managed to match his intensely challenging stare.

"Yeah Dan--I do." A thrill went through me, which I didn't want him to detect. "...and number two?"

His eyes dilated--all pupil--totally black and vulnerable. "—you want to fuck me?"

At first my heart stopped beating, then began to pound. "All night long," I said, looking at his eyes, his lips, his rugged jaw, feeling his body shift beneath me.

We kissed, long and sweet, all wet tongues and soft moans, while hearing the distant clink of empty bottles, the party nearing its end.

"We better get out there," I pulled away, the last thing on earth in that moment I wanted to do. "--say our goodbyes..."

He took my hand as we rose off the bed. "You think they're gonna...?"

"I think they know," my shoulder rubbed his giant bicep as we moved into the hall.

"--think they can drive?"

"We'll make coffee," I surveyed the kitchen. "--or put them in the guest room."

"I'm worried about Tommy."

But Tommy was cool--and the athletics of constant sex had left all of them pretty much sober, but tired. And they brought in the empties while I handed out fresh towels.

My eyes alone told me Tommy was with Chico, and Tony with Mark. Chico winked at me knowingly as everyone dressed—everyone but the Coach and me.

"Thanks," Mark Wynn said to me. "I'm going home with Tony."

Tommy beamed happily. "And I'm going over to Chico's. My parents think I'm sleeping here!"

The Coach and I hugged each guy goodnight as we stood together on the front porch--grinning at our brazenness—standing there buck naked, our cocks and balls on display for any car that happened to drive by.

"We're alone," he said after closing the door. "How's it feel?"

"Nice--real nice," my leg rubbed against his hairy thigh.

"You need anything?.... Coffee?"

I deliberated a few seconds. "You're going to think this is dumb..."

He shrugged those huge shoulders. "--just name it, baby..."

I hesitated, then smiled. "I want to look at you, Coach."

"It's Dan, remember?"

"I want to look at you, um,

Dan

."

He laughed and raised his incredible arms. I nodded. "So? Look all you want! You've been doing it all night...."

"--not alone I haven't," I said. "So how about I go get back in the tub..."

"...sounds gooood!"

"...and you climb back into that little bikini of yours?"

"Seriously?"

I nodded. "Then come out and pose for me?"

He quickly swivelled me towards the hall. "Well, then, get out there! Just grab us a couple of beers first, okay?"

I went to the fridge and opened it, only to see my Calvins land beside me on the floor. "You put those back on, too," he said. "That way we'll be equal."

The hot tub felt great--my wet Calvins a slick second skin as I sipped my beer--feeling like the luckiest guy on the planet. And though he wanted me to call him Dan—in my mind he was still the Coach—cuz hell, no one that endowed, that hugely-muscled, tall, and ruggedly virile could be anything but 'The Coach' to me.

It seemed to take him a long time--like he was trying to build up my expectations—for, I mean, I

had

seem him strip already—had been all over his naked body. But with everyone else around, my eyes were forever wandering to take in the rest of the action. It was distracting--sexy as hell--but not the private free show I'd soon be getting!

Finally, the screen door opened--the glow of the tub dancing across his six-foot-two, fur-blessed physique. The Coach was wearing his wifebeater, which rode up his hairy, ripped abs, to just above his sex-packed bikini briefs.

"Hey, man," he sauntered over, full of swagger and attitude, "you got that beer?"

Unable to speak, I almost spilled it as I handed up the bottle.

He nodded, then backed up on the decking to give me a total view of all he had going.

"So," he said, taking a swig. "You like what you see?"

I nodded, a stupid smile on my face.

"So do I," he said, looking through the water between my legs. "It's just 'us' now."

"I always loved a man's equipment," he said, dropping his hand down to lift his heavy pouch. "And big muscles," he added, flexing his killer arms. "--ever since I was a kid."

"Me, too," I said, watching his biceps roll like boulders.

"--guess that's why we both work out so much."

I shivered at his words, staring at his deep, sexy, hair-swirled navel—at the river of hair down his endless, flat, lower belly towards the gathering delta peaking from those packed bikinis.

"My body was a natural for developing more bulk--except for my thighs," he casually posed his upper torso, flaring his lats, his wifebeater stretching and rippling. "And with the dick and set of balls I got born with, I really needed those killer quads."

He thrust out his right leg and flexed it, making the corded, stacked muscles dance in the turquoise light. His hefted pouch jiggled in the vee of his tremendous legs, its whiteness set off by all that hairy dark bulk cradling it.

"God," I breathed, my cock lurching in my Calvins.

"Your legs are beautiful," he said back. "--you have to bust your balls for 'em, too?"

I shook my head, flexing my quads in the water. "I have to knock myself out over my abs," I said, staring at how his threadbare wifebeater hugged his crazy-defined, articulated six-pac. And he ran his big hands up over them, feeling each ridge slide over his fingers.

"When you were younger, did you check guys out?" I asked, watching him casually swig his beer, his every movement a re-arrangement of erotic massiveness.

"At the public pool, I was always finding some excuse to go into the change room," he stared into the water at my body. "--soon as some hunk would go in there, I'd be the one right behind him" he grinned.

"Me, too," I breathily laughed.

"There was this lifeguard named Kyle--I was just eighteen and really feeling my oats," he recalled. "And I would stand below his chair, copping a look between his legs to check out his basket."

"Was he hot?" I wondered, my cock tingling more than ever.

The Coach casually began walking down the steps into the tub to get warm. He didn't sit down but stood on the opposite side to let me keep looking at him. He nodded and grinned at me. "Oh, Kyle was hot alright--a big blond jock like you, with just as much hidden in those Speedos of his." He swigged more beer and fondled his bikinis for me. "Of course, he knew what I was up to, though I couldn't see his eyes behind those mirrored sunglasses."

"Did he talk to you?"

The Coach laughed a little. "You know lifeguards! They only grunt when you ask them questions—if that, even. And I asked everything I could think of!" He laughed, playing with his basket.

"Shit," I said. "That took guts..."

"Yeah, well--he really turned me on--though I was a late bloomer and only then just figuring all that out—kind of like Tommy." He pawed his right pec through his shirt, making the thick nipple swell out at me. I could see the black forest of his hairy chest through the thin fabric, which stretched across those mounded tits, unable to fully contain them. "I must have been flashing him my teen rod half the time," he smiled, "cuz he never told me to get lost like he did everyone else."

"Jeez," I said, my eyes travelling over that amazing body. "Did you ever....?"

He nodded emphatically. "I finally got the balls to ask him to help me with my breaststroke...."

"No shit!"

He laughed. "Yeah, and he sort of grunted a 'yes', and told me to beat it till he'd closed the pool." The Coach sipped his beer and shifted his giant thighs to show off his bulging crotch. "So I stuck around, nearly dying with excitement!"

"No SHIT," I said again.

"So we had this private lesson in the shallow end, with me nearly drowning as I tried to check out his Speedos underwater." He laughed deep and knowingly. "And after a few minutes of that stupidity, he turned me over, took off his sunglasses and said, "What's your name again, kid?" The Coach scratched his rough jaw, recalling the whole thing. "I was floating there, looking up into the sexiest blue eyes I ever saw and stuttered out, 'D-Dan'!"

"Holy," I breathed. "What happened then? How old was he?"

The Coach leaned against the tub, his full pouch getting even fuller. "I dunno—twenty-something—and he says to me, 'I think we both know, Danny, that you aren't really after just a swimming lesson, here, are you?'" The Coach laughed, recalling things. "And I tried to protest, but he kind of pointed down at my suit and said, 'I think you're getting all excited over my body.'"

"God!"

"Yeah, right?" he smiled. "And I blushed deep red and then he says, 'I don't mind that, kid--but you ain't gonna get to first base lying about wantin' a swimming lesson,'" The Coach fumbled his sex-stuffed bikini. "So I said, 'You've got the greatest body I've ever SEEN--I'll never have muscles like yours!'"

"You didn't! What'd he say then?"

"He didn't say anything--he just climbed out of the pool, heading for the change room, turning at the door to see if I was coming or not."

"Whaaat? Wow!...bet you WERE...."

"Damn right!" he grinned. "My teen cock was poking my swimsuit out like a peen ball hammer. And Kyle looked at it, and then was waiting for me in the showers..."

"Holy Jeez," I whispered. "Are you

serious

?"

Dan nodded. "--swear to God--and he turns on the spray and says to me, 'Well, Danny, you gonna show me what you got before it rips through your trunks?"

"Jesus. Oh God, I would've died!"

"I nearly did—As my first gay experience? —A lifeguard? God DAMN, I was so nervous I was trembling!" He smiled down at his bikinis, which were tenting-out by the second at the memory.

"So--

did

you? Did you take them off?"

He laughed. "Well, I got so shaky, looking at his hairy-blond pecs, that he dropped his rough guy attitude and just handed me a bar of soap." The Coach sipped his beer, nodding at my wide-eyed disbelief. "--swear to God--he hands me the Ivory and says, 'Calm down, Danny-boy--there's no one here but us. And I'm just a guy like you. ...So why don't you just relax and soap me up a little?"

"SERIOUSLY?"

He nodded, laughing. "Well, I fumbled the damn soap--and when I got on my knees to pick it up, he stepped-in, his knees touching my shoulders. And I was looking right at his big, red, Speedo basket!"

"Holy fucking crow..."

"His big fat cock was bent over his balls like a crowbar, and the huge head was ripping at the cloth." The Coach shook his head, grinning at me. "So he says, 'Why don't you help take these off for me, Danny? They're getting a little tight...."

"I can't believe this--he seriously SAID that?"

The Coach nodded, laughing. "And my hands shook, and I felt those hot, hairy thighs against my fingers, and his soaking suit was so full of dick, I couldn't get them off....so he says, 'Here--let me make it easier for you', and slides his suit down till the biggest, fattest, hunkiest cock on the planet swings up and hits me on the chin!"

"Oh, Sweet Jesus..."

"I know! I backed away, my eyes popping out. And he says, 'Go ahead, Danny--soap it up for me--you want to, don't you?" And I took the soap and then got to play around with his huge, fat, blond-bushed cock and flopping, hunky balls...." He shook his head at the memory, thrusting his bikinis at me luridly. Then he dropped his fingers down to outline his up-thrusting fuckstick lengthwise, pausing to outline the ridge around his cockhead.

"So right then and there, I made a pact with myself to have a body just like his," he swooped his giant arms up in an arc and flexed everything he had at me. His wifebeater stretched to the max, his nipples pressing out the thin cloth. I stared into his deep, hairy pits--at gleaming triceps, bulging biceps--at striated deltoids, wedgy lats. His shirt rode-up his delineated abs, his swooping intercostals narrowing to the sexy vee of that sex-crammed bikini, so full of hard cock and bouncing balls, it looked like a banana and two oranges slung in a tiny hammock, curly black hair puffing out the top.

"Do I turn you on, Jensen?"

"More than you can ever know," I managed to say.

He smiled, and went into a hand-clasping side pose, his chest expanding, his triceps punching out, his stomach sucked-in, his pouch thrusting mightily. "Enough posing?" he asked. "My dick can't take much more of this..."

"Neither can mine," I stood up, facing him.

"God," he breathed. "--except for not having hair on your chest, you're a dead ringer for Kyle the Lifeguard."

I felt up my glistening, wet pecs, thrumming the nipples with my thumbs. "You disappointed? --that I don't have hair?"

"Oh fuck, no," he said quickly. "That golden bush of yours is plenty to play in! Beside, I've got enough on my tits for both of us."

I smiled and pushed my wet jockeys down to show off my sexy pile of tightly-coiled curls. And he stared at my angel-haired bush, then absently hooked his thumb down to expose his own thick, black, cock-carpet.

"This is hot," I said, "--showing off ours stud bushes..."

"Show me your cock, man," he said, eyes glittering. "I want to see your hard cock..."

It bounced out of the top of my jockeys like a sprung cheetah, twitching in the air.

"Shit, that's so hot," he stared. "--now your balls..."

They tumbled down, grazing my hairy thighs.

"Fat, bigass BALLS," he murmured, seemingly unaware of freeing his baseball-bat-of-a-cock.

"Monster Cock," I whispered.

He smiled, then really let it go. It lurched and swung stiffly at a lurid angle, nearly a whole foot above his hairy forest. It was unreal.

"--ready for some BALLS?" He took my slack, open-mouthed stare as a 'yes' and slid his bikinis down to reveal the hairy drapery of those heavy ultra-male eggs.

He stood there in just his tank top--big-balled, hard-cocked—his black-hairy crotch on display--making him look like a half-dressed Greek god. His fingers bent down the entire length of his up-thrust cock, then let it snap up to smack his belly. Then, spreading his hairy thighs, he swung his heavy-hung balls in lazy circles.

"Stud balls," I murmured. "--killer balls."

"They're so big, I don't know how to keep them," he smirked. "...have to wear a jock all the time, man. We should find an island somewhere--just go around cock-swinging, ball-hanging nude!"

I visualized us strolling among palm trees and ocean surf, our maleness hanging-free between our legs--the sun making our bushes twinkle in the vee of our husky thighs. We'd stare as we walked, till our cocks grew full and speared outward, ready to make love to one all over again.

When I looked up, he was free of his wifebeater, his giant pecs like hairy mountains--the ripe nipples standing out from their wide-circled dusky pink areolas like baby cocks--and he flexed his sex-swollen tits, then ran his fingers through the soft, black, pec-forest.

I saw his other hand drop down and weigh his male peaches.

"Are you going to fuck me now?" he asked, voice quiet, gravelly.

I waded towards him, my hot cock swaying with each step. "I don't want to fuck you. .... I want to make love to your cunt," I said.

"...with your big cock?"

"Yeah," I said, making it flex and buck. "With my big, hard

cock

..."

He turned his back to me and planted his hands out over the deck.

Now, probably to some, a small, smooth butt is their idea of perfection. To me, though, his big-cheeked, hairy soccer-balls--with that deep, fleecy furrow--looked like the most masculine, fuckable thing on earth—a real

stud's

butt.

I breathed deeply, then let his black fuzz tickle my ultra-alive cockhead. A riot of feeling erupted across my knob till cock honey sluiced out the gaping mouth and candied along his deep crack, smoothing the feathery hairs, diving both of us mad.

"Awww, fuck me, Jordie--SHIT...." he husked.

"You want my lifeguard COCK, Danny?" I teased, poking at his resisting slit.

"Yeah," he muttered, "--you know I do, Jordie, I need you inside me, you blond stud..."

As much as we both wanted exactly that, I had to crouch down first--had to worship and kiss and lick those hot furry, muscular globes. The second my lips touched that velvety muscle, I craved that big-assed Coach like an addict! I drove my whole face into his deep crevasse, tongue-lashing his winking hole. I wanted my face trapped inside forever--to be held captive by those muscular globes, that sexy, sexy as fuck hot ass!

I speared my mouth-muscle deep inside.

"Ohhhh, my hole, tongue-fucking my needy hole!" he moaned.

His words enflamed me, drove me deeper--my hands trying to pry that tight valley apart. My fingers found the exotic tenderness of his cleft, inner thighs—his hair-feathered taint--where the soft ballskin began--where the root of his cock was buried. And I massaged into it, then pulled his flopping balls up to my lips and chewed the soft skin.

He wagged his big butt in my face, tossing it wildly, till I bent his rigid cock downwards to drool and slurp at the giant head. It snapped out of my fingers, slapping his hard belly. "FUCK me," he shouted, "--you gonna

FUCK ME

????..."

"Yeah," I stood up, letting a drool of saliva fall onto my knob. "You sure are impatient..."

"IMPATIENT? Jesus Christ!..."

And I spread his clenched cheeks with my hands--and plowed into his juiced-up slit till half my hot cock rode up his steamy tunnel in one horny lunge.

"UUUHHHhhhh!" he groaned. "Just....just, hold it....."

I was in--my thighs trembling against the backs of his own--my cockbush tufted against his cheeks--my eyes seeing dots. I fell onto his back, my fingers clamping over his shoulders, my cock locked in the furnace of his love tunnel. I licked and kissed his shoulder blades, moaning along with him.

"You're bigger than fucking WYNN," he groaned. "Oh God, play with my tits or something..."

My arms could barely circumference his massive torso, but my hands found his meaty pecs which jostled into my palms. And I thrilled at their hairy thickness, my thumbs strumming his rivet-like nipples. It made my cock swell inside him, the heat of his steamy ass almost too much to bear.