Naked Gymnast Weekend - Pt. 01

Naked Gymnast Weekend - Part One

"It's sure getting colder," Chico said, looking out the sliding doors, "--but at least it's not supposed to rain."

"The sun's still hot, though," Tony said from the sofa. "It's going to be great. We can always use that wood stove, huh, Jordan?"

I brought out a round of beers. We clinked bottles and sat on my parents' beat-up cabin furniture. "As long as we cut more. My dad really gets pissed if I use his precious woodpile." I laughed then. "I swear he actually counts the logs!"

"The lake looks VERY cold," Chico's South American accent made me smile. "I just want to stay in this place."

"There's the hot tub, too," I swigged my beer. "All we have to do is switch it on."

"Really?" Chico's light-brown eyes lit up.

"See, Chico?" Tony grinned. "Now we can be Danish, like Jordie--hot tub until we're boiling to death--then jump in the lake!"

"I'll just stay inside of the tub," Chico said. "I can't stand it, being cold! It is so COLD, here!" He shivered theatrically. "--especially close to the water!"

"You say that every year, man. How long does it take to adjust? Jeez!" Tony swigged his beer. "I've lived here less time than you, and I'm fine with it."

Chico shrugged, then drank. "Italy isn't Argentina--okay?"

He looked even smaller in the old armchair. His perfectly proportioned body was curled-up into it, like a Puma--like some kind of exotic cat.

It was great having the cabin to ourselves. "Your routine was amazing yesterday," I said to Chico.

His white teeth flashed. "Thank you. Yours was, too! You have got your dismounts to be perfect!"

I looked at Tony. "Are you really going to switch to the rings?"

He shrugged his big shoulders. "Coach said I don't have to give up the bars--but no one wants to do rings. And someone has to." His eyes were almost black, I noticed--all pupil. "Why don't you volunteer?"

I laughed. "High bar and rings go together. Parallel bars and rings are totally different! Totally." I swigged my beer. "Besides, you're built for rings. I don't have the lats for it."

"Shit," Tony wiped his mouth. "You've got lats to die for, Jordie! Don't give me that crap!"

"I wish I could do those things," Chico said. "The coach always say 'no' to me because I am small."

I looked at him, envying Chico's compact physique. "Well, he's full of it, man. All the spotter has to do is lift you up--once you're there, you'd be awesome!"

Tony killed his beer, watching Chico and I finish ours. "--Coach has such a thing about size. It's really stupid." He got up from the sofa. "You mind if I get three more?"

I handed him my empty, looking up at his six-foot body. "Yeah, well, just because you want to try doing floor routines," I said.

"What's wrong with that?" Tony headed to the fridge.

"Not everyone can do it," Chico said. "Guys like you and Jordan would get a back injury. It's easier when you're a shrimp."

"There you go again--you may be short, but you're no shrimp," I said, admiring Chico's shoulders and arms.

Tony came around the countertop and handed out our beers. "How'd you get started in gymnastics, Jordie? They don't teach it in high school."

I took a swig, then looked at the ceiling and laughed. "If I told you the truth, I'd never hear the end of it!"

"Oh?" Chico's eyes were studying my face. "Is it a secret?"

"It's--I don't know--embarrassing, I guess." I shifted my 175 lbs. around in the chair. I smiled and shrugged.

"Wow!" Tony grinned. "What's the big deal, Jordie? I thought you'd just say the Olympics, or something."

I swallowed even more beer. "You'll just ending up mocking me."

"Of course! It's so easy!"

Even one beer has an effect on me, and we'd finished our first round way too fast. Alcohol always makes me get loose-lipped.

I stood up. "Shit. Who cares? I'm not proud. I was only twelve. We were all twelve once."

"No shit," Chico grinned. "Tony still is!"

I walked over the rug and onto the rough pine floor. I could feel their eyes on me as I knelt and rooted through the bottom shelf of a cobwebbed bookcase. It was full of magazines and yearbooks.

"This is getting interesting!" Tony called out.

"It's probably a trophy his dad won," Chico said.

"That wouldn't be embarrassing," Tony said.

I saw Chico's big brown eyes widen as I brought over the magazine I'd dug out.

"Hola!" he said up, staring at the photo on the back. "What the heck is THAT?"

I stood between the sofa and Chico's armchair, looking at the cover. "It's a 1972 copy of 'American Nudist'," I smiled. "I was twelve--and my best friend found it hidden in his sister's bedroom."

"No shit!" Tony said, his curiosity rising. "And you kept it?"

I thumped the cover. "This guy's physique made me want one just like his," I felt stupid admitting it. "And the little write-up says he's a gymnast."

"Lemme see it," Chico said, just as Tony reached up and grabbed it.

"Holy crow! No friggin' wonder! Look at that body!"

Chico bounced out of his chair. "Wow! He sure has a hairy chest!"

"Shit," Tony laughed up at him. "So do you, man--and your pecs are even bigger."

Chico rubbed his t-shirt, still staring down. "I don't have that much hair. And I'll never have biceps that big."

"Yeah, well, that's not all that's big on this dude," Tony smirked.

I could feel my cheeks start to burn. If it's one thing I dislike, it's that I blush very easily--and being blond makes it worse.

"What are you talking about?" Chico laughed. "Yours is way bigger--so's Jordie's!"

"So's YOURS," Tony said back.

"Jesus," I said. "I knew I shouldn't have shown you this."

"Wow," Chico said to Tony. "Look at all he's got hanging."

"Huge balls, huh?" Tony swigged some beer. "And he sure is hairy." He looked up at me. "You're both hairy down there, too--just like me." He nodded at Chico. "It's only Chico who has hair on his pecs."

"Even my ass crack has hair--not much, though," Chico giggled. "It all keeps my body warm--too bad for you guys."

Tony thumbed through the rest of the magazine, Chico sitting beside him on the sofa. They seemed totally absorbed.

I decided to return to my chair, surprised to see I was already most of the way through my second beer.

"I guess they put their 'star' on the cover. Everyone else in here looks ready for the nursing home!"

"We have a nude beach in Buenos Aries, but only the beautiful people use it," Chico said. "These old women shouldn't be playing volleyball-- just play cards or something!"

"I could get into this," Tony finally tossed the magazine aside. "I hate wearing a jockstrap everyday." He killed his beer, with Chico not far behind.

"I never used to wear one," Chico said, fumbling with his jeans. "--not until you two forced me to!" He took Tony's empty and got up when I showed him mine.

"Get three more, please." I looked at Chico's crotch and smiled. "No one 'forced' you to, ok? We kindly pointed out that you looked like you were trying to hide a cucumber."

"Ardite!" Chico swore, hunting for more beer.

Tony laughed, knowing we were getting Chico going, "You Latinos wear pants a whole size too small," he called over. "Like you're trying to wow the babes."

"Fuck. I don't even like chicks," Chico countered. "--it's just a style!" He came in and handed around the bottles.

"Well, guys with dicks like ours have to be modest, or it looks like we're advertising," I said, the beer loosening me up more by the minute.

"So?" Chico's eyes flashed at me, then at Tony. "We aren't 'advertising' nothing out here, anyways!"

Tony burst out laughing, making Chico glare at him. "What's THAT supposed to mean, man?" He shrugged and rolled his eyes, trying to goad Chico on.

"I MEAN," Chico's face looked fiercely cute whenever we got him fired-up. "There isn't anybody OUT here, IS there, Mr. Big Guy?" He nodded at the picture window. "We don't have to wear a jock in front of each OTHER!"

I tried not to laugh. Chico's accent always grew broader when he was upset. It made Tony and I smile.

"It's not exactly a nude beach in Buenos Aries, either, Chico," Tony tipped his bottle to his full lips.

"What's THAT supposed to mean?" Chico mimicked Tony back.

I felt Tony was beginning to push Chico too far. I shrugged. "There really isn't anyone around," I said to him. "After Labor Day, the whole place empties out." I nodded at the window. "You see any boats out there?"

Tony looked at the autumn-colored trees and mountains. Even from where I sat, I could see everyone's dock pulled up onto their lawns. "The only thing I see are some ducks," Tony said. "But that doesn't mean..."

"Hell," Chico huffed. "People in this country are so modest! In Argentina we show our bodies OFF--in Italy, the same!" He swigged his beer. "So what's your big problem?" He scoffed. "You've lived here too long, Rosario!"

Tony grinned at me. "First he complains about being so f'ing COLD--the next thing you know, he's drinking like a sailor and trying to get us to go around bareassed!"

"Shut up," Chico said, looking hurt as well as angry. "You had so many beers, too." His speech was becoming a bit slurred. "And you are the one who said you wanted to be the nuderist, or whatever they're called," he pointed at the magazine.

Tony put his hands up in a gesture of truce. "Okay--okay, man. Calm down!" He smiled at Chico. "I apologize--OKAY? I'm sorry!"

"You don't even mean it. I can tell," Chico looked at me. "You both always make me get mad. You like that. I know it."

Tony set his beer on the floor, then got up from the sofa. His wide-shouldered body dwarfed the room. "Ok, ok, ok. Jordie, fire-up that woodstove," he said, tugging his T-shirt from his waist.

"What are you doing now?" Chico stared.

"You don't believe me when I say, 'I'm sorry'?" Tony shrugged, pulling his shirt up. "I guess I have to strip to show you I'm sincere."

Chico and I both stared at Tony's tanned, muscular abs --at how deep and muscle-stretched his navel was, carved into that taut lower belly--at the black feathering of hair disappearing inside his cock-mounded jeans. He stopped just as his t-shirt came to his big chest. "Well? Don't just sit there gawking," he said down at me. "You're the one announcing that there's no one around..."

"Well, yeah. I did--but..." I hastily looked again at the front window.

"And YOU, Mr. Nude Beach--put your money where your mouth is!" He pulled his shirt off, his thick, pec slabs flexing as he tossed it on the floor. "You're the one who blames us for having to wear a jock!"

Chico looked shy and flustered all of a sudden. He watched Tony flex his huge, muscled biceps and shake out his arms. "Maybe it is too cold for this," Chico said, looking at me for support.

"Oh, no you don't!" Tony pointed at him. "You can't accuse me of living here too long and being too modest, and then not want to go all the way!" He reached down to unbuckle his belt. "'In Argentina, we show our bodies OFF!'" he mimicked Chico's accent.

"We should've stopped at two," I said, holding up my beer to see how much was left. "We're all getting bombed. This is nuts."

Chico was up on his feet, his face in line with Tony's pecs. He looked determined to defend his South American pride.

Tony smiled over at me, nodding down at Chico's defiant, self-absorbed stripping. I watched the mocha-toned muscles of Chico's beautifully developed, wide-shouldered back and shoulders emerge. Then I got up to see if there were wood in the stove or not.

"You, too, hotshot," Tony said to me. "You're not getting out of this."

I could already feel the blood rushing up my neck. By defending Chico, I'd ended up turning my parents' cabin into a gymnasts' nudist colony.

"Shit," I said, lighting a match to the kindling. "I knew I shouldn't have shown you that stupid magazine!"

When I'd gotten the stove going, I turned around to find Tony and Chico standing in the middle of the room in just their jockstraps.

"Jesus," I stared--looking from them to the picture window.

"You're a little over-dressed, aren't you, Jensen?" Tony swigged his beer. Chico looked at me blankly, like he was so mad at Tony, his pride wouldn't let him come to my defence.

"Oh, come ON, guys!" I fumed. "We're not going to get naked for real, are we?" I stared at their bulging pouches --at their perfect gymnast asses.

The stove was only beginning to warm up the little cabin. Tony shrugged, he and Chico finally smiling together --only now they were smiling at my blushing protests!

"What's the problem?" Chico asked. "We shower together all the time!"

"Yeah," Tony said. "What's your problem, Jensen?"

I felt my face turn beet red as I realised, they weren't going to back down. Worse, I could feel the beer making me lose my usual command of things.

"I--I can't tell you," I stammered.

"Tell us what?" Chico looked up at Tony puzzled. "Not another secret Jordie! First you can't tell us how you wanted to be a gymnast..."

"My problem is...," I hesitated. "...I mean--I don't have exactly a problem really-- "

"...but WHAT?" Tony pressed, his dark eyes searching my blushing face.

"You can tell us anything," Chico saw I was genuinely uptight. "It's OK. We won't laugh at you."

I looked up at the ceiling as if hoping for divine rescue. Then I looked at their curious, beckoning eyes.

"Oh shit," I said, my face so scarlet I could hear my pulse beating in my ears. I kicked at the circular rug on the floor. "It's just that I--" I cleared my throat and spoke down at the rug. "--I mean, I sort of, um, get too excited...." They just looked at me--the silence hanging there in the room. "--um, too excited when I'm naked, I mean--I mean, when other people are around." I dared to look at them. "It just sort of happens, is all."

I saw Tony stifling a smile, which made me want to kill him.

"Is that all?" he broke into a grin.

"You mean, you throw a rod?" Chico shrugged. "So do I! Big deal."

He and Tony reached down to pick up their beers. They clinked bottles. "Here's to big fat rods on our get-away weekend," Tony toasted the air. "I can't stay soft longer than five minutes when I'm in the locker room," he said in exasperation. "Why do you think I'm always wearing one of these?" he thrust out his full pouch.

"You're just trying to make me feel better," searching their faces for sincerity.

"Swear to God," Chico said solemnly, raising his hand. "I always have to be careful--but so do lots of the guys on the team."

"Shit," Tony swigged his beer, watching me as I slowly began pulling off my t-shirt. "I've spied more thanone woody in the showers. David Spencer's always throwing a rod, man--the second he walks in there!" He laughed. "--and...and soon as I spy his?... mine starts up!" He shrugged and drank some more. "It's like yawning, man. It's no big deal."

I finally let out a breathy laugh, feeling dumb and relieved at the same time. Chico's brown eyes were checking out my pecs.

I pushed down my jeans, still a bit nervous.

We all wore silly grins as we checked out our bulging jocks. "I feel like getting smashed," Chico grinned. "This is going to be cool!"

"Hell," Tony punched him. "You already are, man!"

Chico looked up at me expectantly, as if I was going to be first to get bareassed.

I let out a stream of air. "Chico has the right idea," I smiled nervously. "I need to get hammered!"

"That's right," Chico raised his bottle, looking like a muscular boy as he sat in the huge armchair. "Forget all this silly talk--it's just us--your buddies!"

Tony looked out the window and sat on the sofa. "Not a soul around, man. Even the ducks have left the building!"

I was determined to get past my anxieties. "Does David really throw a rod in the showers?"

Tony laughed and Chico nodded like mad. "He did it once when we were sharing that shower in the middle," Chico said. "He was looking at me washing my butt!"

"Seriously?"

"The thing is," Tony jumped-in, grinning. "His dick is so small; you can't even tell that it's hard!"

I laughed, the feeling such a relief after being so anxious. "But, come on, man," I said. "You guys are shitting me when you say you have to watch out, too..."

They both shook their heads emphatically. "One time?" Chico's accent was getting thicker. "One time, I saw Coach Dan drying off in his office!"

"You lie," Tony said. "The blinds are always closed."

"Not THIS time!" Chico sat up, his bare feet just reaching the floor. "My cock stood up like THIS!" He bent his forearm. "I had to put my towel around me very fast!"

"He's one built dude," Tony whistled.

"--just like that guy in the book," Chico pointed to the coffee table. "--hairy chest--hairy legs--AND..." Chico broke into merry laughter, doubling over.

"WELL???" Tony laughed, too, loving the suspense.

"--like a DONKEY'S," Chico's eyes became saucers. He stood up, his jock a snow-white bulge against his mocha skin. He brought one hand down halfway to his knees. "...and his balls are like avacadoes!"

Tony dissolved in laughter, while I chuckled and killed my beer. My eyes ran up-and-down Chico's amazing body. Short as he was, his lightly haired, muscular chest, great delts, and thighs--combined with his perfect proportions--made him every inch a man, yet with the look of a boy.

He seemed to like showing himself off to us because he kept standing there. "Just thinking about watching him all naked," he shivered a little--all of it very dramatic. "It makes me get....."

".... excited," I filled-in helpfully.

He turned to face me, his pouch looking impossibly full for a guy his size. "Yes! Very, very excited!" his brown eyes glowed at me.

"Jeez," I muttered, his obscene bulge making me horny as hell.

"Yeah, well, that would about do it to any one of us," Tony said, looking right at Chico's perfect butt. "He's right out of a bodybuilder's mag--except those guys're always shaving their body hair."

"I like mine," Chico announced, obviously loose lipped. He ran his small hands over his outstanding tits, ruffling the black fur. He looked right at me. "You think I should shave my chest, Jordan?"

I immediately squeezed my thighs in response, which brought a small laugh from Tony. "Um, no--no, I don't," I said, getting up quickly to head to the fridge. "It's cool the way it is."

"--What you think, Tony?"

"Hell--I'd give anything for a chest like that," Tony stared. "I think hairy pecs are hot."

Just hearing Tony admit such stuff out loud sent a thrill through me. I was on my way to getting totally hammered--and at the same time, hornier by the second.

"Your pecs are the best," Chico said. "You and Jordan have the best tits of anybody--including the coach!"

When I brought in the fresh beers, Chico was back in his chair, his legs tucked under his little butt. Both he and Tony looked right at my pouch as I handed out the bottles. It made me both embarrassed, and proud.

"You know," Tony said, raising his bottle in yet another silent toast. "--I hate to say this, Jordie..."

"Yeah? What?" I took my first swig of beer. I felt ready for any and all questions--even from Tony.

He cleared his throat, "I know you're probably all weirded out by this being your folks' place and all...."

"Oh hell," I laughed airily. "I WAS, before. I mean only three weeks ago, I was sitting in here with them and Father Thomas from Sacred Heart!" I broke up in laughter, the beer making me woozy. "But now? Shit." I shrugged. "Now's now!" I laughed more.

"Okay--good!" Tony chuckled along with me. "Because I thought the whole point of this was to finally get rid of these goddamned jockstraps!"

I wasn't exactly expecting that to come out of his mouth, though. I was--truth be told--quite happy with things the way they were. It was sexy, without being too much to handle.