Temp hitting the 80s (F) yesterday and a full day of activities for all!
Son Leo and friends Chris and Ryan spent the day at the public pool, trying to impress the girls from the middle school no doubt with handstands and tumbling when not in the water.
Dave’s daughter Jaymee spent the morning working with Karen on parts of the fakir act – mainly involving Jaymee in balance whilst Karen does various ‘tricks’ on the nails and glass – they went off to Cody’s place where they now keep most of the stuff for the act.
Pete and Ivo up at first light, workout in the cabin, then off to the gym centre to work until midday.
Dave and I waking up seriously horny, especially as our guests Leon and Dane were down from Lexington and sharing our bed (it’s wide enough to need a telescope to see the other side, but obviously as four gay lads with shared interests we [erm] got it together well before breakfast…) then off to the private gym for some pre-arranged wrestling bouts which naturally turned to oil…
…and Clare (bless her) roasting a succulent dead animal in the kitchen to provide lunch for nine people.
…followed by sunbathing behind the cabin, where it is totally secluded from the view of neighbours. Well, that bit, at least, was lazy! If only we had a beach in TN…
The sun’s great though, although the humidity is high by our British standards and even after 13 years we really haven’t gotten used to it. So we ‘re pretty much shirtless, whenever… and that’s interesting because when ever I post and stress shirtlessness in the gym, I get e-mails wanting to know where guys can work out shirtless. There seems to be so much phobia out there, and its true in UK too. Obviously its not great to sweat all over the equipment because you forgot to put to a towel against the pads or something, but otherwise, what can possibly be wrong about it?…
Happy guys checking each other out and giving encouragement is all part of the gym experience, wherever it is – and, see, the girls like watching you too, despite what gym managements seem to think!
Public gyms often provide mirrors so that you can check out your form and make sure the right muscle actions are happening…
…and then they complain when you take your top off so that you can indeed see what is happening! We think it is time for a campaign for guys to “Just Do It”…
Surely Speedos are just fine for gym?
…especially with this level of intensity and sweat…
(towel in place, of course – at least behind his seriously sweaty back: unlike the previous guy!)
The Asian guys do it too:
Wait… is that undies in a public gym? He wouldn’t have that stuff and mirrors in his own room, surely? Must be a gay gym through and through – perhaps the nipple rings are a giveaway there (we don’t do that stuff, btw)
Shirtless weights in your own basement is obviously a cool deal:
…but may be wise to keep your pants on if family are likely to burst in to use the washer or something!
Underwear is probably safe enough in front of family… family who know your likes and dislikes, anyway:
A couple more ‘weighty’ show-offs, then:
As ever, I’ve written in a title and then drifted off topic. Lazy Sunday? Well, the afternoon was. A manic coaching week ahead for Dave and I, though, so we probably deserved to spend a little free time with our mates Leon and Dane before they headed home. And then the boys arrived back from the pool, tans going nicely, they’re sensible enough to keep cooling off and not over-expose… still full of energy… so we wrestled them, four adult guys against three boys. We won, ‘natch…
But the pleasure I (we) gain from building great bodies and then using them always diverts me from the matter in hand. It led to three whole books, for goodness sake:
Loving the Boy: ISBN 978-1-907732-30-0
The Power of Love: ISBN 978-1-907732-41-6
Against All Odds: ISBN 978-1-908645-35-7
If you’re here because you like looking at great guys, then you probably would lap up the gay content too. Click on the ISBNs and see where it takes you.
Doesn’t that smile say it all? ‘Look what I’ve built, guys!!’ Really, its what you do and achieve, not where you do it, that counts.
