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Chuckie Finn

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Your Fly is Open !
By Chuckie Finn
Saturday, November 20, 2004

Rated "PG13" by the Author.

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I See the Secrets that You Keep

When the East Bay Racquetball Club opened a decade ago, a group of my fellow male boat owners at the Marina decided a membership there would be an excellent way to shed those unwelcomed cellulite pounds which had become clearly visible on the back of our aging thighs. In essence, what they were driving at really, was this was just another place they could park their butt and watch the ice cubes melt in their bourbon and water at the bar.

At the time of their insistence for me to participate in their quasi Richard Simmons exercise forum, I was engaged and committed to playing second base for the City Softball League. I didn't see where I would have the time to join both sports groups. However, I sustained a minor injury on the softball diamond which left me an open target for their hounding. Misery loves company I guess, and upon their relentless pleas and prompts to join their quorum, I finally became frustrated enough with their badgering and made application to become a member.

Being a rather shy individual, bordering on being shamefully bashful, I really did not take great pleasure in showering with a group of hairy ass men in a echo chamber where their intoxicated caterwauling laughter reverberated throughout the men’s locker room. One of the consequences of these “shower alls” was the opportunity to view one another's personal endowment. Not that you would just zoom your eyes right in on it, but, it’s there, you know its there, and somehow you just happen to take a quick peek at the size of the “other guys” unit. Now pretending you didn’t see the thing hanging down there is the hard part to explain if he notices you glancing down. It also raises another line of questioning which we will not explore at this particular point in time.

I must admit after a year of playing racquetball, the four of us were starting to play quite well together and we decided to sign up and enter one of the money prize doubles tournament. Thusly, we would play teams from other neighboring clubs in the surrounding cities and towns. We were playing way over what was expected and we upset one of the favored teams to win it all...Barnstable.

Well, for a group of Barnstable well conditioned athletes of which no one member was over the age of 25 to get beaten soundly by four “past their prime” old farts as they called us, was just totally unacceptable and a travesty to the sport of racquetball. The heated discussion escalated as to who was actually the better team and it lingered on well after the match. Our heckling continued over to the bar where the Barnstable team was drowning their sorrows in their micro brews.

I had taken my usual seat at the far corner of the bar away from the debated issue on whose team was superior in talent and somehow, the
controversy wavered on the subject matter and finally reached and drew to a sudden halt on the size of one another's reproductive organ.

As luck would have it, the team from Barnstable selected their champion whose name happened to be Dick and proposed he was rather well blessed in that arena. ( Quite an appropriate name for their penis champ don’t you think?)

Ralph, a member of the my team, nearly fell out of the captain's chair and approached me excitedly.

“Chuck, come on you can beat this guy,” he whispered with his arm draped around my shoulders.

“Forget it Ralph. There is no way, I am taking my penis out of my pants for these people to take a look at.” I shook my head and waved my hand for him to get away.

“Chuck, don't be crazy! This is for a round of drinks and we have $100.00 placed on you that you can beat this guy! All of us here have seen it in the shower before. You have him beat, hands down,” said Ralph with wide eyes and matching grin. He was overly anxious for me to agree to meet the challenge.

“No Ralph! Absolutely, no way Jose. It’s staying where the hell it is. And there will be no one's hands going anywhere, especially in my pants!" I cried.

"Chuckie, come on now. Don't be shy. He says he’s got a mini Godzilla behind his "zippa." Think of our reputation. We don’t want to lose to these young punky kids. Let's finish them off for good and send them back to their Mommy's apron strings," Ralph implored.

As I shook my head emphatically from side to side, Ralph finally walked away like a dejected kid that lost his best friend and went to announce my refusal to participate. Well the embarrassing laughter from the Barnstable group escalated and the name calling started and rose to the ceiling until Ralph could no longer stand the ridicule and humiliation. He sauntered back slowly to me with a slight sheepish grin on his face and said with a pleading wavering voice,

“Chuckie? Okay, I understand you don’t want to take the whole thing out, ...but tell you what, can you just take enough out just for us to win?”

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Reviewed by La Belle Rouge 11/22/2004
LOL I'd like to know too, did you win???
Reviewed by Mary Quire 11/22/2004
Oh, my! I don't know why, but the movie Porkey's just comes to mind.


P.S. Did you win?
Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado 11/20/2004
too cute, chuckie; enjoyed! thanks for sharing!

(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in tx., karen lynn. :D

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