Posing Strap Trio

"Godamn rain," Tony said, already popping open a Coors. His six-foot-one-inch body dominated the front room window as he gazed out at the lake. "We could still go, you know--- fish bite like crazy in this weather."

"I'm not going with lightning like that," DJ said from the kitchen. His blond head nodded out at the blowing trees. "Besides, the boat'll tip over."

"Shit," Juan said. His dark Latino body glistened as he towelled his round ass. "You nearly tipped it over yesterday...you keep horsing around," he said, nailing DJ with a smiling scowl.

Tony watched Juan wrap the towel around his tight waist. "What's to do on a day like this? Hell. We finally get to come here on our own, and....!"

"We could play cards," DJ grinned. "Strip poker!"

"Shit...listen to the big talker," Juan messed up DJ's super-curly hair. "Feeling a little horny this morning?"

"Sure," DJ knocked Juan's hand away. "Always. I'd go around bareass if you guys'd do it, too, man."Tony swigged some brew and came over to the breakfast table. His green eyes watched Juan and DJ intently, and his sheer height and size made the other two give him their attention.

"So?" his voice was deep and ballsy. "---join a nudist colony---that's what they're for."

"Would you get me a beer?" DJ said to Juan. He looked up at Tony. "Maybe I should---but they're just stupid. Big huge fences---a bunch of losers playing badminton. You know Mike Bates? He peeked over the fence at that one near Saratoga."

Juan's muscular triceps flexed as he reached into the fridge. "Most guys our age are pretty damn modest. You yack about strip poker, but you're the worst, Deej---always locking the bathroom, for cripes sake."

"All farm boys are. It's because of our parents." DJ looked fresh as all outdoors, his smile growing conspiratorial. "But you know---there're some dudes who AREN'T modest--- a lot of guys, actually."

He took the beer Juan handed him. "I've even got proof!"

"No shit," Tony swung his legs to straddle a chair. "DJ's got proof," he nodded at Juan, watching the handsome Latino go into the bedroom.

"Yeah. Proof. I got proof." DJ got up, his developed shoulders and pecs stretching his tee-shirted chest. "It's old proof.....but then, you know, proof's proof!" His shirt came only mid-waist, showing a sugaring of dark blond hair leading from his perky navel down his tanned, muscled belly.

Tony took in DJ's body, his eyes so dark, DJ didn't see him looking. Tony spoke right to his displayed, tanned abs. "This we gotta see." He nodded to Juan, emerging half-dressed from the bedroom. "Deej is gonna show us some old dudes that aren't modest."

"Oh really?" Juan rolled his eyes. "This'll be interesting. Where are they, DJ? --- waiting in the boathouse?"

"Shut-up," DJ brushed Juan's shoulder to go outside to the garage. "They're not 'old dudes'.... they're just.... oh hell. You two never believe anything I say. I gotta prove everything. So now I'll go get your precious proof."

Tony and Juan exchanged knowing smiles as they emptied their beers and crushed the cans. Juan went over to take out two more. The wind howled around the summer house, the picture window awash with pelting rain.

The three guys were buddies, growing up together in their small-town school and involved in things like 4H. Their lives had been spent earning merit badges in Scouts and attending their respective church's youth groups.

Getting to use DJ's great uncle's place was a first for them. They'd just graduated, and the understanding gentleman had even left them a couple of cases of beer, knowing they'd be wanting to celebrate.

A bolt of lightning split open the sky, followed by a deafening crack of thunder. No sooner did Juan pop the caps of two fresh ones, than DJ came back in with a filthy, water-stained, large, brown envelope. He tried wiping the dust and cobwebs off it, which only seemed to make it worse.

"What the hell is that supposed to prove, dude?" Juan backed his chair away from the little cloud of dirt and dried leaves.

DJ said nothing back. He opened the flap and pulled out two ancient-looking, pocket-sized magazines.

"Jeez, DJ," Juan eyed them, smelling the mildew. "What the hell are those?"

"Proof, bubba---proof!" Todd grinned, slapping them down on the table.

The weathered, black-and-white glossy cover of the first mag showed a photo of a smiling muscled teen wearing nothing but a cowboy hat and a little bulging loincloth. The title, "Physique Pictorial" was printed above his nearly naked photo. The date 1958 was in the upper righthand corner. He was standing on a mountain, his tanned muscles rippling, flexing his biceps with a big proud, happy grin on his cute face.

"Holy shit," Juan picked it up, staring at the cover. His dark brown eyes widened.

Tony nonchalantly reached over to grab the second one. It said, "Athletic Model Guild" on it, with a black-and-white pencil drawing of a biker with tight leather shorts, his almost grossly over-sized chest unbelievably nippled. Next to him was a guy looking much like DJ--- big-nippled pecs, smooth-as-silk muscles---his arm slung casually over the biker's neck, wearing nothing but an obscenely packed swimsuit.

Tony's eyes narrowed. "These were out in the garage?" His voice was quiet as he pulled apart the water-damaged pages.

DJ laughed. "Would you believe it? They're my Great Uncle Jim's!" His voice got all excited. "Remember that World War II paper we had to do for Plover's class? ---back in May?" The other two nodded absently, absorbed in the photos. "We were all here for Memorial Day and Uncle Jim told me he had a bunch of old Life magazines out in the garage." He pointed at the mags. "And when I opened this up to see what it was? SHIT! I couldn't friggin' believe it! He must have forgotten he'd saved them."

"Godamn," Juan whistled, pulling at his crotch. "Who would EVER.....I mean, shit!" He looked over at Tony, who was totally absorbed in a photo of a muscleboy laughing at the camera, his little pouch bulged and sagging from being too stuffed as he sat with his legs spread wide open. Tony flashed Juan the picture.

"Shit," Juan thumbed through the glossies. "They put out stuff like this way back in the fifties?" He shook his head. "Hell, it's worse than hardcore porno shit. I mean, these dudes are still in high school.... you know? ---YOUNGER than that, even! Hell, this kid looks like he's friggin'....!" He rearranged the front of his jeans. "I can't believe it.... hell, it's makin' me...."

"Told 'ya's," DJ grinned over Juan's brown shoulder. "Just look at this!" He grabbed it away and showed them both a photo of a really developed kid, his string thong barely able to hold in his full-blown boner. The sides of the cloth were gaping open, pubic bush curling out. The kid had a great big smile on his face, like he was happy his picture would be looked at by the entire world. "One of these dudes could be Uncle Jim!" DJ crowed.

Tony's eyes flashed for a second. "Gimme that," he grabbed it out of DJ's hands.

DJ watched the big guy examine the kid's hardon, then turn to each photo, not saying a word. He whistled. "I don't know why this gets me goin', but it does." He thumped the picture of a kid with a fishnet thong. "They look so innocent or somethin'---like you two---like they're right off the farm." He showed Juan another photo. "They've all got these weird haircuts and grinnin' like it's gonna be in the fuckin' yearbook or somethin'. Shit. Can you imagine a kid back then lettin' himself be photographed like that?"

Juan took the mag Tony had been looking at, staring at the "Tom of Finland" drawing on the cover. "Looks almost like you, Tone," he said, pointing at the biker. "Looks like you doing welding in your dad's shop---hairy chest....big friggin' arms."

"Shit," Tony glanced up. "I wouldn't be caught dead in leather shorts like those."

"Oh yeah?", DJ's eyes twinkled. "Then, what about.......?", he fumbled back inside the brown envelope. "......what about......in THESE!"

Juan and Tony watched as he pulled out a handful of cloth. Only when he lifted one up did they see it was a little pouch held together by string.

"What the fuck......?" Tony seemed to lose his usual cool. He reached down and grabbed a blue one. The triangular bit of material looked absurdly small in his outstretched fingers. "Where'd these come from? Inside with the mags?"

DJ laughed, nodding his head. "He must have sent away for 'em! I mean, there's nothing to them! ---like there's no seat or nothin'....it's like a jockstrap with no straps. They're just like the ones in these old magazines." He laughed and threw a yellow one up in the air. "They're old as hell and faded and all, but they're not really dirty. We could wash 'em......"

"Oh yeah?", Tony looked at DJ, his green eyes intense. "What the hell are you sayin' man? ---that just because your uncle's an old fruit, we're supposed to put these on?"

"I dunno," he shrugged, looking to Juan for some kind of support. "We COULD....I mean, hell, why not? ---no one here but us chickens!" He grinned, his face growing pinker by the second.

"No friggin' way," Juan said. "I'm as hard as a fencepost. All this shit's making me horny."

DJ sat down beside him, looking across at Tony, then back at Juan. "So? Calm down a little. Have another beer." He nodded at the window. "We've got all day. It'll be so cool!"

"You don't know squat about posing," Tony said to DJ. He tapped the photo of a guy with his arms raised his biceps and thighs totally flexed. "A guy like this is a professional."

DJ stood up and began tugging at his jean button. "Oh yeah?" He pointed to the open mag. "Most of those poses are just natural, man." He picked up a red-and-white striped pouch. "The real question is whether you guys can even fill one of these up. Most of these kids look like they're trying to hide a peanut." He stared at Juan and then Tony. "Yeah...the REAL question is whether you could even fit into something this small, dude."

Tony half-smiled as he rose, towering over DJ. "You could only HOPE of having HALF of what I've got packin', man." He grabbed the blue pouch off the table. "You don't know what the fuck you're talkin' about, DUDE! Shit. You lookin' for some proof, here?......Hell....I'll give you proof...."

The other two grabbed their pick of the pile. DJ headed for the bathroom, while Juan went back to the bedroom. Tony didn't seem to care, standing in front of the picture window, muttering to himself as he stripped off his shirt.

"Oh, shit, I'm still hard," Juan laughed from the bedroom. "Go down, goddammit, go down!"

DJ laughed from the bathroom door. "Even hard, you're not gonna make a dent in that thing," he called out. "My balls alone are filling up mine."

His challenging taunts were barely heard by Tony, who was puzzled by the mechanics of trying to climb into something so flimsy. Certain tasks confused the big teen. Not overly bright in school, he had to settle for majoring in shop. And now he couldn't untangle the strings. Once he did, he couldn't believe the wild feelings that single line of string riding up his deeply-split, muscular cheeks generated. He looked back at his round, lightly furred ass. He was sensitive about his hairy body and height. He longed to be smooth-bodied and tightly muscled like Juan and DJ. In his own mind, his physique was overly masculine---too built, too bulky, compared with his two, athletically gifted, more naturally muscled buddies.

"Holy shit," Juan whistled when he saw Tony turn from the front room window.

"W-what?" Tony looked down at himself, wondering if his pouch was even holding all he had inside. The blue covering thudded out from his enormous thighs. Black hair gushed from its gaping top. The strings from his narrow hips seemed about to snap.

"You're friggin' HUGE down there, man." DJ said from the bathroom door.

"Told ya's," Tony grumbled, eyeing their erotic physiques. "But so're you two," he offered, staring at Juan's canary yellow sock. His eyes drifted to DJ's red-and-white striped sack of sex. He swallowed then, clearly able to make out the shape and size of DJ's fat cockhead.

Appreciating the attention, DJ sauntered into the room, wagging his thrusting, candy-striped package, enjoying Tony's unabashed staring.

"Lemme see your ass," Tony remarked darkly from the window.

DJ laughed, his gymnast, pec-blessed body swivelling around to flash Tony and Juan his round, hard ass. Dark blond hair, the texture of goose down, rode up his exposed slice. He bent over to even show off his winking, pink pussy.

"Awww, fuck," Tony said, feeling blood pump into his cloth-trapped cock.

Juan's eyes looked glazed-over as he watched DJ's show. His gaze then fixed on Tony's pouch---watching it grow ever more angular and stretched. It bulged with balls, the shaft of something very large pressing heavily against the tiny cloth. His own dick hurt as it thrust forward against its yellow fabric confinement. His beautifully mounded, mahogany tits swelled, the nipples hard rivets. His mouth welled-up with saliva. He bent his knees, trying in vain to readjust his sexy package.

"I dig your hairy chest," Juan heard himself say, staring at the big Italian.

Tony smiled, happy to hear his body was a turn-on after all. He flexed his bicep, and then his meaty pecs. "Wanna feel?", he asked Juan, moving in closer.

As though in a lust-driven trance, the trio found themselves in a triangle of thonged nakedness, their pouches filling in heat, looming brightly---inches apart.

Tony's unexpected offer made DJ and Juan both reach out to feel a set of tits they each only dreamed someday of being allowed to touch. Once invited, there was no stopping them. Tony's head fell back as he felt them lavish attention on his needy tits, exploring fingers squeezing and worshipping his muscular slabs.

"Oh fuck," Tony growled. "Pinch the fuckers. KISS those big hairy tits!"

He moaned then---looking at the ceiling---feeling tongues and lips slobbering his achy, huge nipple cones. In masculine lust, Tony felt his hands grab mounds of slick, hot ass as he pulled DJ and Juan further onto his swollen pecs.

Cloth-trapped cocks rubbed and thrust as groans filled the room.

"Oh, sweet Jesus," Tony complained, making DJ afraid he'd gone too far. Instead, Juan and DJ watched as Tony backed-up and hooked his thumbs into the top of his straining, blue poser.

Cock---hugely erected dick, a huge mushroom head blossoming from the shaft thundered free. The flimsy blue cloth fluttered onto Tony's thick thighs. The nine-inch, richly veined javelin thwacked Tony's belly--his man-sized nuts heaving back-and-forth as he wrestled the tiny poser off his gym-built legs.

Permission granted, the other two stared at Tony's hairy, naked display ---at his swinging bull balls and flexing cock, as they, too, rid themselves of their little items.

Tony stood there in erected, hot-cocked splendor, watching his buddies' hunky dicks swing out and stiffly bob in heat. He gazed at their suede-skinned balls, at the seductive sway of their rock-hard, meaty cocks. His may have been the biggest, but theirs were hunky and fat and perfect and hot.

Juan's shaft looked dark and seductive, the spread head's hole staring back at DJ and Tony. Curving in lust, it was thicker than expected, almost glowing in its arousal. It all shot up from a rich, thick pile of kinky black curls.

His even darker balls hugged the base of his cock like two hunky, deep-toned tennis balls. His beautiful, brown body shimmered in the light of the window. There didn't seem to be a single hair on his delineated, wrestler's thighs.

DJ's cock was proud and pink, spearing at a rakish angle from a pile of spun gold. The head of his hotness was a perfect dome, with a beautiful, flared flange. It stood tall and proud above a set of generous and gorgeous balls. A dusting of goose-down coated them, and made the other two want to play and mess with his toys.

Tony nearly lost his mind, staring back-and-forth at DJ's swollen pink dick to the throbbing dark meat of Juan. He watched Juan's big bruiser pulsing, then saw DJ's perfect mushroom-capped cock open its mouth and turn mauve. He couldn't wait.... didn't wait, but came in to grab his fill of balls, his fingers diving in behind then to dig into Juan and DJ's tender taints.

The two moaned, then found themselves locked in a kiss, their pent-up passion boiling over, their hands clamping over Tony's ten inches, their fingers then falling to have at his low-swinging, hot, fat, furry peaches.

Tony's lips found their mouths, their tongues swiping at chins and teeth, little cries filling the room. And without prompting, they were just as suddenly locked in a frenzy of group jackoff---hands wrapped over the nearest fat cock.

Balls flew in abandon as knees bent and pelvises thrust upward---eyes raced over tits and rippling abs and swollen cockheads---mouths groaned and arms slung around behind to grab at flexing, muscular, virgin cheeks.

In a flurry of ripe fisting---their moans and panting bouncing off the ceiling---their bodies trembled together, their muscles seizing and flexing.

"Uuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Juan's eyes snapped open, his mouth gasping. His balls rode up in warning, trying to snap inside his body. He stared wildly at Tony and DJ, wondering whose hand it was that was sending him over the cum-shooting cliff.

Tony felt an electric current seize his huge cock as he pumped DJ's thick, pink-headed rod. DJ cried out, knees buckling, his own hand unable to surround Juan's dark, pulsing meat. Cum shots erupted, the white jizz firing onto tits and chins and abs. Knees gave way while hands kept milking, as balls emptied and swelled.

Their collective cream flew everywhere, landing on the floor, the table, the window. It gushed from their contorted teen rods, the sweet thrills making them slam together, their sweat-sheened bodies rubbing and flexing. Juan's knees gave way.

And then, as if on cue, they all dropped to the rug, their hands fondling one another's nakedness, seeking comfort, needing affection. No one spoke---their nudity, their heaving breaths, their stunning, surprising sexual climax---all of it spoke to each of them far more clearly than words.

Biceps, thighs, and hands rubbed into fleshy muscle, their dripping cocks still erect, their ballbags elongating as they panted together and heard the rain pelt the window. It was as though the wind and pattering drops were themselves applauding the beauty of these innocent nature boys, lying together dazed and naked in the front room of DJ's uncle's old summer house by the lake.

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