Wrestle-mania By Fantomfun
Disclaimer - All names, events and locations in this story are completely fictional, any resemblance to real people is completely unintentional. If you are under 18 (or the legal age in your state/country) or do not like this kind of story please leave now.
I forgot the script I'd marked up on the first day of rehearsals, so after dinner I drove back to school to get it. There's always someone around practicing or hanging out, and in a country school there really isn't security like city schools have. So I made my way through a long hall lit only by emergency exit lighting and entered the auditorium from the back, heading down to the stage. I thought I'd left the script under a seat in the first row. Lights were on in the gym area below the stage, the space the theater department would have used for props and stuff if our school actually had a theater department. The wrestling team claimed the space most of the time since it was connected by a tunnel to the locker rooms.
I went right to one of the slits in the concrete to peer down into the practice area to see who was there; I saw Tony M. hunched over another guy who was spread eagled on his stomach on the gray mat. Tony is an asshole, and I steer clear. He's a junior like me so sometimes it's a trick avoiding him. Anyway, his whole body was clenched, the muscles in his legs and arms popping and rippling. His skin glistened like it was oiled. The green one-piece uniform thing that our school wrestlers wear was pulled down to his waist. He had the head gear on, though, and his black hair stuck out of it at odd angles.
Whoever was pinned under him was still making an effort to free himself. All I could see was the short blonde hair. It could be one of 10 guys on the team--lots of Swedish stock in our town, including my family.
Tony's muscles flexed as the other guy moaned and squirmed beneath him. They were really going at it for practicing on their own, I thought. Maybe that's why I never stuck with the wrestling: not willing to work that hard. Well, that and the bloody noses I'd get every ten seconds. So I did the gay thing and took stats with my friend Cindy at matches. But I digress.
Tony clenched and hunched his whole body, over and over, in a kind of rhythm. And then it dawned on me that, even as dense as I was about all things related to sex, Tony was totally humping that guy! I always thought he was into guys, but he could only ever show it in a jock way. He was always wrestling his friends. They never really looked as into it as he was. But he was relentless. Always pushing and getting other guys in headlocks and shit like that. Total hyperactive asshole. He should have been on meds.
Well, now I'm holding my breath and getting major wood watching Tony dry hump his teammate. I even look back over my shoulder just to make sure no one is watching me! When I turn my attention back to the show, I notice that the other guy doesn't have shoes on. Squinting harder, I notice that he isn't wearing anything, no t-shirt, no uniform. I don't even see the white band of a jock strap. And Tony is still grinding away on him. For the first time, I can hear Tony saying through clenched teeth, "Fucker, fucker." He has a real mouth on him.
The other guy was slapping the mat with one hand, but Tony had one arm around his neck and all his weight on the poor guys back. With his other hand he stabilized his body, preventing the guy under him from flipping him off. And for just a second, he pushed that hand into the space between their bodies to adjust something. He pushed his uniform farther down.
He wasn't dry humping this guy, he was totally fucking him.
Then everything went completely internet porn. Tony was panting and drilling his tongue into the other guys ear, and he was saying shit like, "Tight fucker, I'm breeding you. I'm fucking breeding you. Fight me, come on fight me." The other guy was just moaning and I could make out the occasional "shit." But Tony was super-glued to that guys back, pumping away in short, fast thrusts. (I'll admit, he's like lightning in a match.) And there seemed to be no way to get him off. I really wondered if the other guy wanted him off, though.
Tony's teammate finally managed to get a little leverage between thrusts and he caught Tony off balance and started to push himself up with one beefy arm. Now I could see who the other guy was. It felt like someone had kicked me in the gut I gasped so hard. It was my older brother Mark. He wasn't even on the wrestling team. Oh man.
I didn't know what to do. Was Tony fucking my brother against his will? Why would Mark be wrestling Tony anyway? I know they never got along, and as a senior, Mark would get cocky because he was a year older and pick on Tony even though he wasn't as much of a jock as Tony was. All I knew was that Mark was starting to raise himself up, but he didn't look mad. He looked determined, I guess, but he had his head thrown back, like a female cat that's getting it from some stray tom. Mad and liking it. He seemed to be protesting--but not too much. And then he snarled, "Fuck me, you shithead. Fuck me, dude. Just dick me!" And Tony pushed Mark back down onto the mat and pounded away with furious, short stabs, all his muscles flexing.
Okay, I'm not into my brother, though I'm into guys. I suppose he's hot--but he's my fucking brother. And it really disturbed me to see him getting plowed by Tony the asshole. But wow, they looked really good, too. I didn't know whether to be sick or blow my wad.
The sweat was making the mat slick, and they were having a hard time staying stuck together. So Tony pushed Marks' legs farther apart with his own legs and did the full nelson thing behind his neck, practically linking himself to Mark.
They moaned and struggled and Tony kept doing the "Your pussy's so hot, fucker. I'm gonna cum out your mouth, you fucker." And Mark said shit like, "Breed me, man. Cum in me. Cum up my ass!" It was hot and disgusting at the same time and I was leaking like a pipe about ready to burst. Then I heard the faint sounds of the jazz band coming from the music room down the hall. They were still practicing.
Tony and Mark must have heard it too, and Tony growled in Mark's ear, "Take it, fucker." And the loudest, meanest sounding "ahhhh" came out of his mouth. Guttural. He immediately disentangled himself from Mark and flipped off of him and onto his back, his shiny cock and balls finally visible in the harsh fluorescent light. His dick was fat and brown and his balls were plump and jutting out because his uniform was stuck under them, raising them up. His arms were above his head and his black furry pits were a real contrast to the mounds of white muscle that surrounded them. I had never thought of Tony this way before, but at that moment his sex-drenched body was the hottest thing I'd ever seen. I tried to avert my eyes from Mark, though.
Mark jumped up anyway and darted to a corner of the room I couldn't see, obviously getting his clothes, and rushed through the door to the tunnel that led to the showers. Thank god. If they'd kissed and stuff, I probably would have screamed for them to stop. I didn't want to see that!
But I couldn't keep my eyes off of Tony. He was hardly breathing. He has the aerobic capacity of a runner, and he had totally recovered from his work out already. His cock was still hard, and one hand wandered to his balls. He massaged and mashed them and pulled on the skin, stretching them. I almost pulled my dick out of my pants and had a go myself.
I know what trouble Tony can be, but I couldn't help myself. I was totally overcome. It was like all sense of personal safety went out the window. You know how in cartoons some character will get his nose snagged on the aroma of a roast turkey or an apple pie or something and find himself carried along by the smell, with feet never touching the ground? That's what happened to me. I stood up, not even caring about the tent in my cargo shorts, and I went over to the head of the stairs and flipped on the light switch. He'd obviously see it.
I didn't have a story ready. I didn't have the script in my hands, I didn't have wrestling gear or a towel to make it look like I was heading for the showers. My legs were hot and I could barely feel them under me. I glided down the stairs, feet never touching the risers as I was carried down to the wrestling room by the aroma of sex. Tony had propped himself up on his elbows, and he'd pulled his uniform up, just under his belly button.
"Jack," he said nonchalantly. "Looking for your brother?"
"Fuck no," I snapped. I don't know why I snapped at him. "I came to get my script, I forgot it somewhere in the auditorium."
"Loser," he said, staring at me with dull gray eyes. He looked like an animal or something, definitely not a conscious person. I couldn't move. "Did you see me fuck your brother?" he said matter-of-factly.
"Yeah," I said helplessly. I was standing at the foot of the stairs, stupid, not knowing what to do with my hands or what to say. He got up and sauntered towards me, shirtless, his hands on his hips, his crotch bulging like he'd stuffed about ten socks down his jock strap. He was drenched with sweat, his hair dripping like he'd just showered. There is no ventilation down in that practice room, so it gets pretty warm. And the closer he got, the more I could smell him. Tangy, musky, fucking fantastic. He walked right up to me and put one hand on the wall, blocking me from going anywhere except back up the stairs. I was so shaky I would have had to crawl anyway, to get away from him.
But I waswn't leaving. I was transfixed by his armpit hair. I just wanted to dive in, nose first. My body felt so out of control, it was like one of Homer's drug trips on the Simpsons. I felt like I was stuck in a spin art painting. But Tony didn't waiver. He cocked his head and asked, "Is your puss as hot as your brother's?"
It was like another person inhabited my body. I stood my ground and shot back, "Hotter."
"Shit." He smiled while pushing me in the chest; he put his other arm on the wall. I could've ducked under to get away, I suppose, but he'd have caught me. He's super fast. Sweat was pouring from his armpits. That's what I focused on. And what I smelled, too. Acrid, like an apple pie you'd want to fuck. Wow.
He reached towards me, grabbed the bottom of my t-shirt and yanked it over my head. He flung it on the stairway. "Nice," he said. He ground his crotch into my crotch, eyes locked on mine, trying to stare me down, waiting to see which way I'd go. "Nice and hard. You want some of this, don't you?" he said while thrusting into me.
"Dude, you're like a fucking porno," I said in mock disgust.
"Hotter," he said.
He jabbed his fuck finger in my mouth and I stood there like a baby with a pacifier in my gob. He watched intently for a sign of how I'd react. Sweat was starting to pour off of me too, running down my chest and stomach. I took the bull by the horns and slid fingers inside either side of his uniform and pushed it down over his hips.
"Now that's what I'm talkin' bout," he said, nodding. He pulled his finger out of my mouth, reached for the light switch and turned off the overheads in the practice room, leaving only the stairway light on. He walked away from me, undoing his head gear and peeling off his uniform as he moved into the half darkness. He was headed to a space under the stairs where there was another large mat rolled up.
"Dude, fucking lose the gear." I had no idea what he meant, I just drifted towards him, carried along by the aroma of his body. When I reached him, he undid my cargo shorts and pushed them and my boxers down and had me step out of them. I bent over to untie my shoes but he stopped me and said, "You'll need'em for traction."
I straightened up and he said, "What do you want?" slowly, teasing. I didn't wait a second. I lunged at him, pushing his arm up, sticking my tongue deep into his pit. He accommodated me and put both arms behind his head. I sucked and lapped at the wet steaming mat of black hair. I would have rolled in it if I were a dog. When I'd gotten all I could out of one pit, I dove into the other, sucking and licking like a crazy fucker. Tony laughed and moaned a little, but really, I didn't pay attention to his reactions.
When he was worked up enough by my assault on his pits, he pushed me over the rolled up mat, face down. I didn't like being pushed, so I raised myself up, trying to resist, but he was behind me in a second, his tool in my sweat-slick crack. A meaty hand grabbed a chunk of my blonde hair. He laid on my back and invaded my ear with his stiff tongue, panting hard. He was gonna get into every crack and crevice of me, I could tell. I was already so slippery from our combined heat, I would have slid off that mat if I hadn't been wearing tennis shoes.
"Come on, fight me," he said, sliding and slurping all over my neck and back. But what was the point, he was so much stronger and heavier than me. I just turned my head so I could meet his mouth with mine. He hesitated, but I jabbed my tongue into his mouth and we went at it, fighting instead to see who could get their tongue farther down the other's throat.
Finally Tony pulled off me. I looked back at him and he seemed to be appraising my ass. He cupped my slick ass cheeks in each paw, massaging them, pulling them apart. He knelt down and said, weirdly, "I love blondes," and then penetrated my hole with his tongue. He ground his face into me so hard it almost hurt. But it didn't, really. I'd never felt anything like it. Complete ecstasy. My pelvis was tingling so much I thought I was cumming. He worked me, pulling me apart with those paws, grinding and poking with his tongue and chin and nose. Over and over. Sometimes I could feel a little stubble scrape over my pucker and I would shiver, though I was totally overheated. Sometimes he'd run his thumb over my pucker and leer at my hole. Then back in with his tongue, working me like he was trying to get something out. He probably did that for a good long while, but like massage time, it felt like he'd just started when he stopped.
Then Tony got inspired and stopped eating out my ass and jumped up onto the rolled mat in one motion, straddling me. He got me to slide farther over the mat, and then he jabbed his fat prick into my hole, working it in with one hand while massaging my drenched back.
"Fuck, man, your puss is tight. Let me in, fucker. Come on," he said, addressing my hole intently, "let me in you little fucker." I was moaning now, "uhh" and "ahh" and crap like that. What could I say? He squatted over me and started riding me once he'd gotten past that part where my sphincter resisted. He obviously didn't even hear me yelping for him to slow down at first. But then he was in good. I tried to push back as best I could, so he'd really get in deep. He balanced himself by placing both his hands on the small of my back, and he rode me. He went pre-verbal, too, and finally it was just grunts and whining, no porno talk. His balls slapped my balls and our ball sacs stuck together a little each time before coming unglued and slapping together again.
My cock hurt a bit, sliding over the rounded mat, but it really felt good too. I totally lubricated it with loads of cock drool. Tony wasn't done, but I started shooting while he rammed into me. There was no stopping him, even if I wanted him to. He'd been at it for 10 minutes at least, and I was beyond ready. I just spread my arms and legs wide, hugging the mat while he pumped away. He probably didn't realize I blew my load. He just kept rocking back and forth, in a trance, trying to catch the wave for the second time in an hour. And finally he caught it and spewed a load inside me. It was my first, and it felt like liberation, like I'd finally become a man. Even in the heat, I could feel the cum cooling as it oozed out of my ass and down over my balls.
Tony collapsed on top of me. He was so heavy, I couldn't breathe, so after about 30 seconds I pushed him off. He slid down onto the floor, his arms and legs flung out just like before. I slid onto the floor, too. After a couple of minutes I crawled over to him and looked down into his eyes to see what was happening there. He had that inscrutable, waiting, Mona Lisa thing going on. I wasn't gonna wait, so I grabbed his cock and milked the last bit of juice out, watching his face to see what he'd do. But there was no change. I ran a finger tip over the sensitive head and he winced. I stood up and rubbed the dollop of cum I'd milked from his big brown cock over my lips, and I somehow got the courage to say, "You're a total fag."
I found my shorts and t-shirt, put them on, and walked up the stairs. I turned off the light, hoping Tony wouldn't come after me. I found my script under the seat in the front row, and I headed out to my car. I drove to the A&W in the next town, smiling to myself the whole way, trying to figure out who I'd tell first. I was so happy I didn't know really what to do. My world seemed twice as big as it did a few hours ago. All I knew was that I'd never mention it to Mark. And maybe Tony would keep his mouth shut, too.
- Well, this is my first story. I'm not a virgin anymore!