Rubbing Cocks With A Gymnast

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 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?”

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6 thoughts on “Rubbing Cocks With A Gymnast

  1. TomofNorway says:

    Several fantasies in one! Nothing beats a wild cum bath scene, and the dense smell of man-sex and semen in a hot room. The sights, sounds, smells, feelings — all the senses culled to the max! Sign me up!

    • donnyjoee says:

      i am surprised the gymnast didn’t go for the guy’s pants crotch and grab his hard cock and give him a blow job of at least a through hand job since he vowed NO SELF SEX during tournaments!!! I know that’s what I would have done!!!!! I would’ve tied a blow or at least a hand job on the gymnast, no matter how much he fought me off. Would’ve made him naked after he retrackted his cock!!

      Donnyjoe, Tewksbury, MA, Text me 651 283 5995

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