Gymnasts Let Loose

When I found out the gymnastics world championships were going to take place in my hometown, I immediately signed up to volunteer at the men’s event.

Let’s be honest here. Gymnastics is a fascinating display of skill and grace and discipline, but as far as I’m concerned, the best part is the pumped-up sweaty guys grunting and flexing their massive muscles as they show off their astounding strength. And this event would feature the strongest in the world, dozens of guys between the ages of 18 and 33 from all around the world, all competing to show off how much manly power was in their swollen, corded muscles. And, I know it’s a stereotype, but I figured that unlike most events featuring very muscular guys, there was actually a chance some of them might be gay. It was going to take place over a week and a half at the beginning of October, but as a 27-year-old graduate student with a pretty flexible schedule, I knew I could devote all of my time to it.

The first two days of the event were the women’s qualifying rounds, so I had those days off. When the first day of the men’s event finally arrived, I showed up before dawn and checked in to get my ID and find out my assigned post. I’d been hoping for a position that would let me watch some of the guys up close, and I wasn’t disappointed. I’d be right on the floor of the arena, keeping track of the German team as they went through the rotation. Scanning the names, I also noticed that one of my absolute favorites was in the group: Niklaus Myerson, a gorgeous 33-year old with blond hair that he carefully “carelessly” spiked up and a take-no-prisoners attitude that really appealed to me.

Having competed in many competitions, he was a multiple award-winner, but as far as I was concerned, he’d also won the prize for the most fantastic pair of biceps I’d ever seen. They were built up so thick and round that it looked like he was flexing even when he was totally relaxed, like boulders under his skin, the thick striations standing out luridly and his lumpy veins rolling over them when he tensed those arms in one bicep-blasting pose after another, the skin stretched unbelievably tight and his arms shaking as he gritted his teeth with exertion.

My job was simple: armed with a clipboard listing their schedule and stats, I led them from one apparatus to the next as they did their rounds. I was free to watch them while they were at each apparatus, and my eyes kept drifting to Nik all day long, constantly awed by his power and finesse. The other guys on the team were gorgeous as well, of course, but Nik was my clear favorite.

To be honest, I didn’t just have a front-row seat for their performances. Male gymnasts wear shorts for the floor exercise and vault, and long pants for the other apparatuses, so they need to change occasionally. I did my best not to stare, but they brazenly changed right there, even in front of TV cameras sometimes. They never removed their singlets, of course, but I still got an eyeful of their perfect asses and bulging packages.

Nik changed right in front of me after the vault, and I found myself staring at the huge bulge in the front of his uniform. I didn’t mean to, but I mean, he was right there! Staring at him, currents of electricity started running through my balls and darting up my cock as I felt the blood rush into it. I carefully positioned the clipboard to hide my growing erection, but I guess I wasn’t subtle enough. He glanced briefly in my direction, and I swear he was grinning when he turned away and slid his pants up over his firm, round ass.

“Who’s up first on the parallel bars?” Suddenly, he was talking to me. I stared blankly back at him for a few seconds, then struggled to clear my throat.

“Uh, w-what?”

“Who’s up first on the parallel bars?” he repeated. His English was perfect, with just a slight accent thickening his words. “You’ve got it written there, right?”

I could hear my heart in my ears, and feel it pounding blood down to my completely hard cock concealed by the clipboard. He KNEW who was up first. Of course he did. And he KNEW what he was doing. There was a cocky grin twitching up the right side of his mouth.

Right, well, if that’s what you want. So I lifted the clipboard away, exposing the massive tent in my shorts, checked the necessary information, then dropped it back in position-but not before he let out a low whistle under his breath, his eyes wide. “You’re up,” I said. “You’re up first.”

We both felt his unspoken response: No, clearly YOU’RE up first. His grin got even wider, and I swear his gaze was like a heat lamp-I sweltered and shook in it till he finally went and sat down on the bench next to his teammates, leaving me to almost pass out as the blood surged even more forcefully to my cock, making it an iron rod straining against the tight fabric. I had to stare at the advertisements on the walls of the arena and do some sums in my head to get it to finally settle down.

I stayed late to help clean up after everyone had left the arena. It casino siteleri was a longer and more tiring day than I’d expected, but I sure wasn’t complaining. Anyways, I had the next day off while the women were competing.

I needed to empty my bladder before¬ the long bus ride home, so I stopped by the washrooms at the back of the arena. I’d found they tended to be cleaner and less busy because they were further away from the stands and closer to the locker rooms. I’d just unzipped at the urinal when the door opened and Nik walked in.

Immediately my pulse started to race and a prickle of electricity fuzzed out the hair on my arms. I didn’t know what he was still doing here, but he was dressed in his casual clothes, so he must’ve been about to head home. He was undoing the zipper of his jeans as he headed in my direction-no, not in MY direction of course, but it sure felt that way. Abiding by unspoken social rules, I didn’t look at him or make eye contact, but he clearly broke a different rule by taking the spot next to mine, even though there were five others.

He was wearing a black T-shirt that rose up over his gorgeous round biceps. He’d probably pulled the sleeves down earlier, but his biceps had pushed them back up when he bent his arms, causing them to balloon out. And now he was taking out his thick uncut European cock, holding it casually in one hand. I tried to focus on myself, but all I could do was stand there, impotently willing myself not to get an erection from the feel of his body beside me. Fuck, every nerve in my body was thrumming like guitar strings.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him slide his foreskin back, unsheathing his purple cockhead; he waited a moment, enjoying the feel of the air on his glans, then slid his foreskin forward again. He repeated the movement, back and forth and back and forth, his forearm tensed, his powerful hand sliding his foreskin along his veiny shaft. I realized he wasn’t even looking at what he was doing; his eyes were closed. And now his cockhead was growing and deepening in color, his cumslit widening from the pressure as his hand reached the base of his shaft before he reversed his movement and squeezed his grip all the way down his thickening cock again.

I was completely spellbound. I couldn’t leave and I couldn’t say anything to him. He started to stroke off faster, his cock reaching its full length of about seven and a half inches. My own cock was painfully hard now, and I stood there indecisively with it pointing straight ahead. A manly grunt rumbled low in his throat as his pace quickened, his hand working his cock with powerful rapid strokes, his enormous bicep twitching as his arm moved; and now I was openly staring at him. His eyes opened slightly and I thought he glanced slyly in my direction under the cover of his blond eyelashes. There was a definite grin, and he was breathing heavily, his chest expanding and contracting, his hand running faster over his thick cock, his foreskin sliding back and forth and his cockhead darkening and hardening, his throat letting out a low groan and his hips thrusting forward as he stroked and stroked-

And stopped. He took his hand off his cock regretfully just before it twitched a few dry times and then stilled, massive and hard and visibly quivering with his need to spray his seed all over the urinal. He was breathing heavily and a slight sheen of sweat was on his forehead. He opened his eyes and checked out my giant pulsing erection.

“Looks like I was right,” he said. “That’s a huge cock.”

I gaped at him and finally managed to say, “What WAS that?”

“No blowing your load during competition week.” His voice dripping regret, he looked down at his hard and quivering unsatisfied cock. “Takes the fighting spirit out of you.”

“So why did you-?”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t still have some fun,” his deep voice rumbling. He smirked and pressed his cock flat against one hip so it’d fit into his jeans. “Besides, I wanted to test you out. See if I was right.”

“Right?”

“I thought you might be interested in a little game me and a couple of the other guys’ve been doing over the years. And from the looks of it,” his eyes roving over my insistent hard-on again, “you definitely are.”

I had no idea what he was talking about, but anything that involved him definitely interested me. “I’m game. What is it?”

Heading over to wash his hands, he explained that he and some of the other frequent competitors had developed a tradition at these events. Since they can’t jack off during it, they get together at the end to finally let loose. They always vote for a winner too-who shot the best load. And sometimes, if they can find a local they like who might appreciate it, they’ll bring him in to participate.

“I talked it over with the other guys,” he said. “And-“

“You’re asking me to participate? Fuck yes!” I blurted out instantly.

“Good to see some enthusiasm.” He grinned, drying his hands on a paper towel. His fingers looked so strong; his canlı casino grip must be like a vise. “There are five of us. Me, obviously. Sergei on the Russian team-we call him Serge, and it makes sense ’cause he usually wins. Javier on the Spanish team-he’s the most recent; he started joining us three years ago. Daisuke-we call him ‘Dice’-on the Japanese team. And Troy on the American team. I’ll let you know where to meet on the last day if you’re still up for it.”

He casually tossed the paper towel in the trash and then pointed right at my bobbing, engorged cock. “If you want to win, you better not go jerking off that big dick of yours as soon as I leave. And-” One last thing as he headed for the door. “Watch out for Javi. He likes to mess with the fresh meat.”

The next day, I found out exactly what he meant by that.

There weren’t enough Spanish gymnasts to form a complete team, so they were in a “Mixed Group” along with some Ukrainian athletes. I wasn’t assigned to their group, but I was able to see Javier (or “Javi” as everyone called him) from a distance. He was twenty-three, with boyish good looks-large, deep black eyes, full lips, and constantly tousled hair; his frame was slighter than some of the other guys, but his golden toned muscles were unbelievably cut, all of his abs clearly visible even when he was just standing normally, and I could make out the taut swell of the most perfect asscheeks I’d ever seen bulging in his uniform. When his group passed by mine at one point, he deliberately made eye contact with me and winked, so he’d clearly been told about my participation.

In the afternoon session, I surprisingly wasn’t assigned to guide a team around. My supervisor said the Spanish team had requested some help transporting equipment, and for some reason they’d specifically requested me. I was to go immediately to Locker Room C, which was being used by the Mixed Groups.

Of course, I knew this wasn’t a coincidence. But that didn’t bother me. I wanted to see where this was headed.

As I expected, the locker room was empty except for Javi. He was standing in front of one open locker, and it looked like he’d just had a shower. Except for the towel wrapped around his waist, I could see every inch of his sculpted, golden muscles, the round shelf of his gorgeous pecs with his nipples hard in the cold air after the hot shower, water still collecting in the grooves of his beautifully defined abs, and I swear, he’d deliberately tied the towel low enough that I could just see the upper swells of his amazing ass.

“I trust you don’t mind?” he said, obviously seeing my eyes roam all over his body. I think I read somewhere that he’d trained in the US, which explained why he barely even had an accent. “I was going to get dressed, but I thought, what use is modesty? Except for a small delay, the future is the past, so you have already seen me naked. We have cum together. YOU, by the way, had a mind-blowing orgasm thanks to me. Mine was pretty good too,” with a cheeky wink.

I managed to force out the words “You-ah, needed some help?”

“No, no,” he said. “It is YOU who need some help. If you’re going to compete against me, and especially against Serge.”

“Oh yeah? And how are you going to help me with that?” I asked, remembering Nik’s warning.

“A demonstration. Some advice. So you understand your position,” he said, a sly tone in his words. His torso twisted as he grabbed the knot at his side, and then he pulled the entire towel away, allowing me a full view of his thick uncut cock and swaying balls. Even though he was soft, his cockhead was amazing, a clear swell under his golden foreskin. I nervously wiped my sweaty palms on my shirt.

“Nik talked to me at LENGTH about you.” He grinned, clearly enjoying the effect his naked body was having on me. “It sounds like you’ve got the equipment to succeed, but what you really need is CONTROL. Come closer.”

Nervously, I glanced in the direction of the door, but he quickly reassured me, “This locker room’s for the mixed groups, which are all done. We’ll be alone, at least till the event’s over. Now, are you coming or not?”

So I walked up to him, feeling the heat and tension radiating off his muscled body, my pulse racing and my dick hardening. He kept eye contact with me, smirking, in complete command of the situation, and that was exactly how I wanted it. When I was just a foot away from him, close enough to smell his naked skin and see beads of water in his short pubic hair, he spoke again.

“As I said, it’s all about control. Watch.”

His lower abs tensed, the grooves over his hips and at the center of his stomach tightening, and his hips flexed and his thighs rippled and his flaccid cock started to twitch upwards, the veins in his thickening shaft bulging, the skin flushing, his foreskin pulling back and exposing the biggest cockhead I’d ever seen, fat and pillowy, still damp from his shower, a tight purple ridge at the base, which curved up on the underside of his cock to meet the kaçak casino thin membrane of skin which connected to his foreskin, his wide cumslit gasping as he contracted his muscles, bringing his cock smoothly to a solid, quivering erection, at least seven inches long, his balls swaying from the exertion and a bead of precum already moistening his tip. Fuck, I’d never seen such a juicy, succulent cock. I wanted to shove it in my mouth and drink down his sticky precum. I could already feel how ready it was to shoot cum out of that gaping, dripping cumslit.

“You see. Just like that,” he said, smirking at me. “And watch this.” He flexed the muscles at the base of his cock, causing it to jerk up. And sure, any guy can make their cock quickly flick up that way, but I didn’t know it was possible to do it so SLOWLY, with such CONTROL. He wasn’t just forcing out a quick contraction. He slowly tightened his muscles so his cock swelled and rose and then lowered back down, shaking and dribbling precum, lubing up his urethra so the cum could fly out of it.

“This next part requires you,” he said, nodding at my massive erection pushing out my shorts. “I can see you want to participate. Right?”

I eagerly yanked down my shorts and boxers, letting my rock-hard cock spring up. “Oh! Better and better. I didn’t know it’d be so big,” he grinned, gazing at my giant hard-on. “Now, since we have this ‘competition’ going on, I know you won’t let me touch it. Too risky, right? But surely you don’t mind some instruction in the art of ‘control’? Don’t worry. I’ll do all the work. Come even closer.”

Of course, I completely saw through his pretext, but I didn’t care. If this is “messing” with me, sign me up.

I stepped forward and then he guided his member towards mine so that my own swollen cockhead came into contact with his. I felt the springy, rubbery swelling of his glans push against mine, the sticky slickness of the precum oozing out of his cumslit, our cockheads pressing into each other, hard and supple and blazing with electric pleasure that raced up and down my quivering shaft.

“Gymnastics isn’t just about power. It’s about balance too.”

And now the muscles all around his cock tensed and his cockhead began to lift mine, our two cocks pushing against each other and rising, the precum dribbling out of his cumslit and gliding down onto my own swollen glans, his cock tightening and tightening and lifting mine, and then slowly letting it back down. And again he contracted the muscles throughout his stomach and under his cock, making it swell under my dick and push it up; I could feel his skin tensing under mine, feel the sticky wetness of more precum oozing out, dripping down my shaft, smell the hot thick odour of his sweaty cock and his pent-up cum, his cock going higher this time, then sliding to the right a bit, rubbing the side of my cockhead, the rubbery tension of our cockheads gliding past each other, slicked with precum and hard with lust; and he flexed again, pushing his cock into mine, now rubbing his cockhead up and down my penis, lubing it with his desire and making it harder and harder-

And a rumbling tide of pleasure was building in my cock, stirring in my balls. Such slight pressure, minimal contact, but it blazed and tingled as he rubbed his cock up and down mine, grunting and panting with exertion, his damp abs taut and shaking. My cock twitched and I felt the pleasure build, felt it responding to the pressure and the sticky wetness of his cockhead, my breathing growing faster and the pulse throbbing up and down my dick as he lifted it and smeared it with his precum, rubbing it with his stiff member, the air thick with sweat and sex and the gathering quiver in my cockmuscles, growing sharper and more insistent, the pressure and the desire building and my cumslit gaping, twitching, shaking, harder and tighter and my legs jittering and my stomach flipping and my cock jerking, jerking, jerking, losing all control-

And spurts of cum rocketed out of my cock and splashed his tight lower abs, rebounded up and hit us both in the chest, him laughing with surprise at the force of my explosion, marveling as my twitching, out-of-control cock shot ropes of hot, wet cum all over his stomach and all along his dick, the thick streams of spunk dangling from his hard cockhead and shaft, landing on his tight balls and dripping down onto the floor, my cock pulsing and wrenching, spilling my salty seed all over him and all over the ground, spurting as the contractions of hard pleasure filled my cock and raced throughout my body, my cock thrashing and churning out wad after wad of thick creamy cum as I moaned in intense pleasure, rubbing my cock against his slick tool, pulsing and shivering until my cock spat out one last burst of cum and then grew still, dangling obscenely over the pool on the tiles beneath me. I sighed, grabbed my cock, and shook out a few last drops of pearly-white semen, regretting none of it.

“Like I said, you need to learn control,” he laughed, grabbing my boxers off the floor and starting to clean off his rock-hard cock. He, of course, had never gone over the edge. He’d managed to keep back his cum. “Good thing I got that out of you. I don’t think I could’ve beaten that cumshot.”