My son and I competed in a major cross-country ski race in early February. I’d done the 30 km event many times but never as a newly-out gay man. Big difference!! This time I
The majority were lean and athletic with the tight bubble butts and muscular thighs of a cross country skier. The older guys... late 30s, 40s, early 50s were the most mesmerizing. Their muscles were a bit beefier and better developed than the skinnier 20-somethings. OMFG!!!! Stunning! (I’m getting hard just writing this account.)
As the race progressed with hottie after hottie zooming past me, I had superb, close-up views of countless spandex-clad asses, crotches and beefy thighs. Breath-taking! Incredibly, they all knew how to wear spandex... no sagginess here! Every single one had his spandex pulled up snugly into his crotch, around each side of his bulge (no split packages!) and firmly into his ass crack.
How could the designer of these suits NOT have been a gay man? The lighter colours.... yellow, white, powder blue highlighted every bulge and curve. These colours also revealed the trickle of sweat which, on some, made its way down the small of the back and disappeared between muscular butt cheeks. Many suits had abstract patterns designed to accentuate a man’s curves. My eyes were drawn involuntarily as the design snaked around the torso and bulge, and then disappeared between delicious inner thighs.
The ache in my balls got more intense as the day progressed. I briefly considered taking... er... matters into my own hand in a Port-a-Potty but quickly abandoned that idea as they were (1) freezing (2) with a huge line-ups of people outside of each (3) so disgusting... I wouldn’t even have used them for their intended purpose.
I wore a pair of black spandex athletic tights ....I think I looked pretty darned good as well! Quite a few people checked me out but nearly all, sadly, were old ladies in their 50s to 70s. I thought, “You’re barking up the wrong tree, ladies!!” However, I was very sure that a number of guys checked me out as well. During the race, I stepped aside (“gave track” - ski racer’s etiquette) as an early 50ish hottie zoomed by; stunning, lean, muscular body, hot ass, grey flavour saver facial hair). He yelled, “Way to go!” as he zoomed past and then turned his head fully around and gave my front side the once-over as well. Gosh.... he could not have been more obvious!
At the finish line, I checked out an early 30s hottie standing alone in a black skinsuit. He looked over for a moment and (I think) checked me out. We locked eyes briefly, he flashed a beautiful smile and then I moved on. I had son with me at the time and I’m really not yet ready for a hookup. When I’m ready, I’ll know!
These pics will give you some idea of what I'm talking about; most are Olympians. They're "okay", but mere pictures cannot compare to having these athletes standing two feet away from you, breathing heavily, filmed in sweat, manly chests heaving, butt cheeks clenching and unclenching.......