I was not at all prepared for the difference between wrestling in high school and wrestling at a Division I college.
One day I was a cocky senior, demolishing every opponent I ran across. Hell, I took my weight class at state without hardly raising a sweat. Then, overnight, I was a lowly freshman again, getting my ass kicked by practically every guy in the wrestling room. And it wasn't just that the others on the team had all been kickass high school wrestlers themselves. The ones who'd been in college three, four years had crazy skills my high school opponents never even heard of.
The coaches said I was doing fine, and it would just take some time to come up to speed with the level of wrestling in the NCAA. I wasn't any worse off than the other freshmen on the team. But that wasn't good enough for me. I was used to winning; I was used to owning my spot in the starting lineup. For now though, all I could do was lay low, keep my head down, and hope those mat drills and my hard work in the gym would start to pay off soon.
It was after practice one day, a week before the season began, that Jase Atkins came up to me in the locker room. Jase was a senior and one of the studs of the team. He wrestled 174, two weight classes above me, and seemed to have everything going his way. Sandy blond hair, green eyes, handsome as fuck, and a tanned body that looked like it was chiseled out of stone. To be honest I was surprised he even knew my name.
"Hey man," he said to me, "you're looking good out there."
"Uh, you must be thinking of somebody else."
"No, Coach says you're showing some real potential."
"Seriously?" I gaped at him a moment as he flashed a killer smile. "Thanks man, but I feel like such a complete turd compared to the rest of you guys."
Jase laughed, put his hand on my trapezius and gave it a squeeze. "I know how you feel. It's tough starting at the bottom again. You should've seen me when I first got here, I didn't know my ass from a cross-face cradle. Luckily I found a way to get it in gear and bring my skills up in a hurry."
I perked up. "How'd you do that?"
"One of the older guys on the team took me under his wing. Became my mentor. Showed me what it was all about. Not just in wrestling, but everything else too - school, home, relationships, life. It made a world of difference to me. Really turned things around. I'd like to do that for you, if you're interested."
I was speechless. Here was a guy I admired more than just about anyone else on earth, asking out of the blue if I wanted him to show me how to be just like him.
"Of course I am!" I replied, probably way too quick and eager.
Jase laughed again. "Good. In that case, let's go for a workout tonight. How about 8:30? That'll give you enough time to get your dinner down and put in an hour or two with the books."
"Yeah - great!"
"One thing though," he said. "If we're gonna do this, I'm boss. At our workouts I'm your coach, your dad, your drill instructor, your older brother. You do what I say, no questions. No matter what. Can you live with that?"
"Yes," I answered sincerely.
"Okay then. I'll pick you up in front of your dorm at 8:30."
I was a good five minutes early waiting on the sidewalk in front of my dorm, as excited as I'd ever been about anything in my life. Jase pulled up right on time in a hot looking Mustang, gave me a nod and a smile and opened the car door for me. I was still barely able to believe my good luck that the stud of the team had offered to spend time helping me out one-on-one. I slid in next to him all grins, ready and willing to go as far as he wanted to take me.
He drove a couple miles from campus and pulled into the driveway of an awesome looking house, modern style, obviously first class all the way. We strolled to the porch and he pulled out a key and opened the front door.
"Who lives here?" I asked.
"Duncan Kirk. You know who he is?"
Of course I did. About ten years before, Duncan Kirk had been one of my heroes. Four-time All American, NCAA champion, one of the true legends of our program. He was a big part of the reason I chose that school.
"Will I get to meet him?"
"Not this time. He's out of town on business. He travels a lot. But he lets me and a couple of the other guys use his place when he's away."
I was a little disappointed by that but still amazed that we were going to be working out at Duncan's house. Jase led me downstairs to the basement and my eyes nearly popped out of my head at the sight of the most incredible home gym I'd ever seen, every bit as well equipped as a high end health club. I could hardly wait to get my hands on those weights but instead we walked right by them to the far end of the room, where a full size, brand new wrestling mat was rolled out on the floor.
"Weight training is great, but it's not everything," Jase said. "In the old days, before there was any such thing as gym equipment, they kept in shape by wrestling. Man against man, muscle against muscle. Nothing develops your body better. You know those statues of the Greek gods? The guys who posed for 'em were all wrestlers."
"That's cool."
He dropped his workout bag at the edge of the mat and pulled off his shoes and socks.
"No shoes," he said. "They tear up the mat."
"Sure," I replied, quickly kicking off my own.
"And lose the shirt," he said. "Wrestling barechested helps you focus. I want you to really feel your muscles on every move."
He peeled off his shirt and gave me a smile. The guy's body looked flat out amazing. I stripped off my own shirt to match him, checked our reflections in the mirrored walls, straightened up and flexed a little when I noticed him looking me over. He clearly had me beat by a mile but I hoped with all my heart he'd see I wasn't in bad shape either.
"You know," Jase told me, "the ancient Greeks started the idea of older guys mentoring younger guys, especially in the wrestling schools. That's how boys learned to become men. They developed their bodies and formed bonds that lasted a lifetime. That's what a few of us are trying to restore."
I nodded, eager to soak up every bit of wisdom he could give me.
"Okay, let's start with some escape drills. Referee's position. You're down."
I hustled to the center of the mat and got down on all fours. Jase slid in behind me and leaned in, pressing his chest to my back and resting his cheek on my shoulder blade. His right arm slid around my chest and held firm, his left hand grasped my elbow.
"Now, show me a sit out. Go!"
I tried to explode out of his grasp but he snagged my ankle and stopped me cold before I'd even got started. We reset and I tried again, over and over, and then moved on to standups and roll outs. For the most part he countered all my moves and shut me down with ease but he also gave me good tips to improve and encouraged me to try harder. On the rare occasions that I did break free of his grip he heaped on the praise and made me feel great.
Then we'd reset again. He'd press his ripped muscular body against me and wrap his arm around me in a way that felt so reassuring, strong and firm and unyielding but at the same time very gentle. I loved the feeling of his warm skin against mine, the slight tickle as a drip of sweat - his or mine - would roll across my back. Before long I felt my cock swelling, and in no time I was fully hard.
I admit there were plenty of times I got hard when I wrestled. Lots of guys did. It wasn't anything new. We were a bunch of hormonal athletes in the prime of lives; our testosterone and adrenaline levels were through the roof pretty much 24/7. It had nothing to do with being straight or gay. You roll around on the mat with a lean muscular guy, your mind might know it's only wrestling but your body has instincts you just can't control. Bones would pop up pretty damn easy. It wasn't any big deal; we all understood that's just the way it was. Although usually it would happen to me only when I was on top.
Jase moved in behind me again and this time I felt something solid rub against my ass cheek. So I wasn't the only one who'd sprouted wood. That made me feel good. At least he couldn't rag on me now if he noticed mine. He barked "Go!" but this time my head was off somewhere else; I balked, and he had me turned and on my back before I knew what hit me. Jase released me, looked me over and laughed. I just lay there a moment with him crouching over me, our stiff cocks teasingly close together.
"Getting tired?"
"Exhausted, to tell the truth."
Jase smiled. "It's been a long day. Let's change it up. Wrestling is supposed to be fun, right?"
"Sure."
We got up from the mat together. Jase trotted to a cabinet across the room and came back with a bottle of olive oil.
"If you really wanna learn your shit as a wrestler, you do it the way the Greeks did - oiled. If you can hold down an oily guy, the rest is easy."
I took a quick glance down at my shorts.
"Uh, will that stuff wash out?"
"The Greeks wrestled naked."
And without another word he dropped his shorts and stood bare assed before me, his cock not completely rigid but thick and huge-looking and pointing right toward me. I hesitated a second, almost protested, but then remembered our agreement - no questions, no matter what. I still wanted his guidance - and needed it - more than anything. I quickly dropped my shorts and kicked them off the mat, showing off my own swollen meat.
"Good man," Jase said with a grin. "Now, let's get slippery."
He started smearing the oil all over his body, poured some into my hands and I rubbed it all over myself too. And I mean all over; he made sure to spread that oil over every inch of himself - taking what I thought was extra care with the one part that had suddenly grown an inch longer. And what could I do but follow suit? I oiled myself up just like he did, from my neck to my toes to my cock and balls. Jase asked me to help with his back and I smeared it on nice and smooth, careful not to miss a spot, and then he did the same for me. The olive oil felt so good on my skin, especially when Jase's hands were rubbing it in. I couldn't help peeking in the mirror at the way our bodies gleamed together, his strong hands roaming over my back, his perfect, muscular ass. My cock was so stiff it ached.
"Okay now, let's see what you got," he said.
"Not much left, after all those drills."
"Don't worry, this is just playtime. We're not going full blast."
We squared off at the center of the mat. I studied him earnestly, determined to show off my skills and make a good impression. Jase looked me over grinning and fired off a lightning fast single-leg shot. Without the olive oil I would have been toast but I wriggled out of his grip and countered with my best re-shot, and then we were both down on the mat in a mad scramble, each trying our best capture moves only to have the other slip out of our grasp. Time after time we attacked each other, defended, countered, wriggled free and attacked again, Jase laughing and spilling out compliments and goading me on each time I successfully evaded him, me deadly serious, wrestling my guts out and taking each kind word to heart like a feast to a starving man.
Jase's hands were all over me, grabbing me everywhere, searching for handholds in places we never would have dared in competition. I gave him the same back, touching and testing every part of that awesome body. I loved feeling the way his hands squeezed me as I slipped away through his fingers, and how his muscles flexed and writhed in my arms. It was goddamn liberating to wrestle like that, just the two of us slick with oil, no clothes to get in the way, no shyness, no attitudes, no apologies, no limits. I think it was the most fun I'd ever had wrestling in my life.
After fifteen or twenty minutes I was too fatigued to go on. My defenses finally collapsed and I just gave up in Jase's arms. I half expected him to turn my back to the mat and pin me to show off his dominance but instead he just held me in his arms and squeezed me tight.
"You had enough?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm completely dead."
"You did so well!" he said with another squeeze, and my heart swelled up at those words and thumped hard in my chest. "Just one last drill. Referee's position. Show me what you've learned tonight."
I crawled to center as quickly as I could and positioned myself on all fours. Jase slid in behind me, pressed his chest to my back, one arm wrapped around me, the other grabbing my elbow - hot, slick, sweaty muscle seeming to engulf me on all sides. His hips flexed and I felt his hard cock against my bare ass crack.
I stayed there in position, motionless, panting, waiting for him to say "Go!" - but it never came. I felt his weight on me, his body heat, his strong grip - so fucking welcome - and his hand sliding down smoothly over my abs, fingers running through my pubic hair, wrapping around my stiff cock, gripping firmly and slowly stroking.
"Unnnggh..." I grunted.
Jase leaned in and spoke soft and low in my ear. "You like this?"
"Yehhhh..."
"What else do you like?" His hips shifted, cock head probed into my crack. He released my elbow, stretched his left arm across my chest and held me tight, his right hand still stroking long and powerful and slow.
"Anything you want."
"Tell me," he crooned into my ear, deep and throaty.
"I want your cock inside me," I whispered. "I want you to fuck me." I didn't even know where that came from. But suddenly I knew I wanted it more than anything, and spread my knees wider and instinctively pushed my ass up to take his meat.
"Mmmmmm!" Jase groaned. His chest bore down on me harder and I felt his cock head, slick with oil, teasing and prodding my hole. I panted breathlessly and eased back to meet him, to swallow his cock head with my eager ass.
He pushed it against me and I felt my asshole slowly spread, forced open wider and wider. I let out a fearful whimper but he pushed in steadily, reassuring me with a gentle "Shhhhhh!" in my ear, a kiss on the back of my neck and a squeeze of his arm.
I couldn't possibly have refused him. Every muscle of my body was exhausted, fatigued to the point of failure. My legs and ass were jelly and his cock slid into me smoothly with barely a hint of resistance, the pain of his thick meat stretching my hole to the limit dulled by the soreness in my muscles, the wildly arousing feeling of his hand stroking my oiled cock, and the excitement of having him inside me. He slid in deeper, inch by inch, and I thrust back to shove his meat in me all the way until my ass cheeks mashed against his hips, and his pubic hair tickled my crack.
"Ahhhhh..." Jase moaned, and began to pump me slowly, in and out. I pushed down on the mat with my fists and flexed my arms and chest, straining my body to heighten every feeling. His cock plowed into me, ravaged my insides, and I rocked back harder to take it in as deep as I could.
Jase thrust into my ass again and again, faster and stronger. We grunted and moaned together as his thick cock invaded me, conquered me, owned me, and my cock held tight in his sweaty fist throbbed and twitched and dribbled a steady stream of precum. Our bodies meshed, our desperate voices blended together in perfect unison. The feeling of taking his cock in my ass, being fucked, being pounded hard was so damn foreign to me but so damn exciting and satisfying and hot. I knew my ass was just where his cock belonged and I wished it could be there forever.
His body twitched and shuddered. He clenched his arms around me tight and drove into me with all his strength, grunting like an animal. With one deep thrust he let out a long loud cry and I knew he was shooting, his cum flooding into my guts in waves of gushing spurts, thick hot cream splashing inside me drenching me and marking me as his property, once and for all. The thought of it spurred a tingling in the soles of my feet that raced through my legs to my balls and erupted through my throbbing cock in a long hard blast of cum that flew a good three feet before splattering onto the mat. My ass twitched and squeezed Jase's cock driving him wild as I dumped out spurt after spurt, and he banged me hard and fast and jacked my raging cock until our loads were completely drained.
We collapsed on the mat together in a pool of sweat and olive oil and cum. Jase took me in his arms and kissed me, deep and soulful, and it felt like the first real kiss I'd ever had in my life - on the heels of my first real fuck. He held me close and gazed into my eyes.
"Well... what did you learn tonight?" he asked.
"I really fuckin' love wrestling with you."
"Good man," he said. "Now you know what it's all about. Now you can become a great wrestler."
"I will, with you to show me the way." I kissed him again, ran my hand over his flawlessly muscled chest and abs and then glanced down at myself. "Um, I'm hoping there's a shower nearby?"
Jase laughed, and stroked my hair playfully. "Sure there is. With plenty of room for two. But first, I'm gonna find you a mop and you're gonna clean up this mess. You're still the boy in training around here."
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