Arm Wrestling

Chad couldn’t believe how easy it had been to get everyone naked. I mean, people in the fraternity knew that he was gay, but apparently no one put together how stupid his drinking game was- it was clearly just a ploy to see everyone’s bodies.

They were up in the mountains for their semester’s brotherhood bonding retreat, and they’d been snowed into the cabin all weekend. There was a fire going in every fireplace, empty liquor handles were on every countertop, and most everyone was very, very drunk. So when Chad announced that he was ready to play a new drinking game, everyone gathered around.

He made the rules simple enough to follow, but foolproof for him. Two by two, everyone would go around the circle arm wrestling each other. Chad would then walk over holding a deck of cards and ask the winner to guess whether the next card was higher or lower than the last one. If he was right, the arm wrestling loser stripped. If not, he stripped. Everyone cheered at the rules and only focused on beating the person next to them. They didn’t realize that it was really all a game of chance, and that all of them would be stripping.

So it started. Shirts went flying, and the college boys’ chests were a sight to see. Over half of the brothers played sports and frequently worked out, and it showed. Their arms were flexed to the limits every time they stepped up to wrestle, and they all started working up a sweat. Chad was constantly looking in new directions, looking at everyone’s juicy pecs and defined abs. Once everyone had gone, the game continued around again, and pants were slipped off. Boxers in all patterns started to be flaunted. Some of the men preferred tighter underwear, and a couple of them had tiny briefs on that showed off their muscular thighs. Before the game moved on again, Chad walked up to Tiny who was still fully dressed. He had won both of his games and correctly guessed both cards. That would just not fly.

Too chicken to get naked, Tiny? Afraid your nickname extends to your dick?

The boys stared catcalling and making chicken noises, and finally he broke. He ripped off his shirt to expose his muscular, barrel chest. In one tug, he pulled down his sweatpants and boxers to expose his huge, girthy, cock.

Fuck that nickname, Chad. He started helicoptering his dick around, and the game continued around again. Chad changed the rules a bit, but no one noticed that everyone got naked on this round whether they won or not. Maybe the boys still sober enough to figure out simply didn’t care. What happens in the cabin, stays in the cabin.

Even with the fires roaring, everyone soon felt the snow’s chill from outside creeping in. Shrinkage abounded, but no one wanted to be labeled the guy with the smallest dick. That just wasn’t an option. So discreetly at first, some of the guys started giving themselves a quick tug. Just to keep themselves at least semi-hard. But soon, the urge was too much. The alcohol and the fires and the skin to skin contact started to get to everyone.

Chad just smiled as he sat there with a beer in one hand and his dick in the other. He was starting to get tired, and he knew that he couldn’t stay awake much longer. As a senior brother, he’d luckily gotten his own room down the hall, where he would fall into a dead sleep as soon as he closed the door and laid down. Well, he’d only fall asleep if nobody followed him into his room...