We made it through the last couple weeks of classes, suffered through finals, and then Carter and I were packing up, tearing down our homemade wrestling mat and preparing to leave our dorm room for the summer. I knew it would kill me not to be spending the nights with him but we'd still talk every day and see each other from time to time. It's not like either one of us was ever going to forget about the other. Being apart just made us want each other more, and attack each other more aggressively whenever we got together.
After a couple weeks at home I was back on campus helping Jase run the wrestling camps, same as I did last summer. We'd have the little guys for two weeks, then the junior high punks, then the high school elites. At the end of it I'd still have a month or so of summer all to myself... and to my brother.
We were only halfway through the first week of camp when Brady came strolling in. He was geared up in workout clothes and looking every inch like the stud jock wrestler he was, a genuine wet dream in anybody's book.
"Brady... what's up?"
He shrugged, and flashed me those clear blue eyes. "Thought maybe you could use a hand. No such thing as too much help with these little maniacs, right?"
"What, you ran out of things to do? Already?"
Brady laughed. "Coach, I've been going to wrestling camps every summer since... forever. Now that I graduated, all of a sudden it's over. I don't know what else to do with myself."
I eyed him doubtfully and glanced over at Jase, who glared at us but nodded. Turned back to Brady and all I could do was chuckle. He broke into a huge grin, gave me a quick but very healthy hug and then began stretching and warming up, clearly pumped to be part of the team.
The little guys loved him. In their eyes, Jase and I were full-fledged adults; we might as well have been as old as their dads. But Brady was different, a man but just barely. They saw him as an attainable goal, someone they could imagine themselves becoming in just a few years time with a lot of hard work. They worshipped him. They practically fought over who'd get to work with him on drills. And he loved them right back; he seemed so goddamn happy to be teaching them and coaching them and helping them develop their skills.
At the end of the day, when the training was done and we'd sent the kids to bed and rolled up the mats, the two of us stood gazing into each other's eyes again.
"You staying in your same room?"
I shook my head. "Nah. Dorm's closed up for the summer."
"Oh. Okay. So where are you then?"
I grinned. "C'mon. I'll show you."
I led him back to the dorm where they'd put me, along with all the kids from the camp. My room was one floor up from the mayhem in a corridor all to myself. Perfect. I'd barely got the door closed when Brady started pulling at my shirt. We stripped each other bare and clinched up tight; God his skin felt so good against mine, so warm and smooth and perfect. Our naked cocks were rubbing each other, stiffening and growing together. I held him and kissed him for the longest time, just loving the feeling of holding him in my arms and being held in his.
I couldn't get over how far he'd come in such a short time. It was almost a year since we'd met at this very same camp. Brady was a young stud waiting to happen, a high school wrestler with a body guys would die for, ridiculously handsome, but not a shred of sexual experience that involved anything beyond his own hand. He was so ready to bust loose he could hardly contain himself; the poor kid knew just what he wanted but had no idea how to get it. We sure picked up on each other's signals though, and he was so damn desperate he ended up grabbing my cock right out on the mat in the middle of everybody... luckily while we were tangled up so no one else could see. But even then it was awkward coming up with an excuse to hobble off to the locker room together, both of us stiff as flagpoles. There's a limit to what people are willing to ignore, even in the wrestling room. Especially when you're in a crowd of high schoolers who are dying for a taste of cock themselves, whether they're willing to admit it or not.
Brady's tongue twisted and curled against mine in a way that sent shivers all the way down to my toes. By now he knew what he was doing and he was damn good at doing it. He broke off our kiss and slowly dropped to his knees, licking and nibbling all the way down... my neck, my collarbone, my breastbone, nipples, abs, navel. I flexed my hips just a bit to let my cock head brush his lips and he smiled up at me, gave it a teasing lick, kissed it, took it in his lips and slid my whole cock into his mouth. I rubbed his head appreciatively, reveling in the feeling of his buzz cut prickling against my palm. He always loved it when I rubbed his head while he sucked me, and he slurped at my meat even more eagerly, sliding it in and out lapping and licking as he went, his lips massaging every inch from the root to the tip. I was leaking into his mouth in no time.
It couldn't help but make me feel special as all hell that a whole year later I was still the only one he'd ever been with... well, almost. Carter had been with him too, plenty of times, when the three of us were together. We'd shared Brady between us and made him part of our brotherhood, binding Carter and me even stronger. When I watched the two of them together I knew Brady was loving every minute, but only because Carter was my brother.
Okay, and there was that one time with Travis too... but that was different, it wasn't for fun, it was more like therapy. He was only helping Travis clear his head, and regain his confidence and motivation. Brady was my boy and he'd do anything to please me, anything to be involved in whatever was part my life. I could feel it from the way he sucked me, worshipping my cock, always looking for new ways to give me pleasure.
I eased my meat out of his mouth and guided him to my bunk. We sprawled on the mattress and tangled up, feeling each other's muscles, flexing and play-wrestling and grabbing and squeezing. I never would have believed I'd ever need anyone besides my brother but Brady was different, our relationship was nowhere near the same. As satisfying as it was to have Carter as my ideal match and equal partner, Brady satisfied a whole new set of needs. Teaching him, training him, watching him grow into the man I knew he could become left me feeling absolutely fulfilled. He was truly mine, just like Carter in many ways, but in some ways even more. Carter and I were the same; we'd each been trained by our mentors to become the men we were, trained to be perfect for each other. But Brady depended on me; who he was and who he'd become were all my responsibility. I don't think I can explain it any better than that. And then of course there was his incredible body... and his hot breath on my neck...
I rolled him onto his back and lay on top of him, grinding my torso against his. Our cocks were absolutely rigid, both of us dripping, the warm sticky precum oozing over our rods making them feel so fucking good sliding against each other. I kissed his neck and gnawed on his traps and he made little whimpering sounds, the kind you'll never hear from a wrestler unless he wants you to know he's all yours.
"Please, Coach," he whispered in my ear. "Give me your cock. I need it so bad..."
"How bad?" I taunted in a low voice.
"Oh God, don't make me beg... just FUCK ME!!!"
I kissed him deeply as I groped for the Vaseline and greased my cock. His legs spread wide and raised in the air, up and over until they wrapped around my waist. I cradled his head in my hand and locked in on his eyes with mine as I prodded his crack with my meat -- he reached down and guided me to just the right spot and the second my cock head touched his hole I felt it spread and welcome me in, begging to swallow me whole. I pushed in slow and smooth because I knew he liked it that way, feeling it enter him and stretch him open, all the way up the pipe. His ass felt so incredibly good, warm and slippery, twitching and quivering on my rod as I pushed in until I was balls deep, my hips pressed flush against his muscled cheeks.
Our eyes were still locked as I began to pump him. I loved watching the expression on his face as I thrust all the way in, eased back, and thrust in hard again. He grunted and moaned as I fucked him good and solid, just the way he and I both wanted. He gripped my triceps and squeezed and I plowed that blue chip jock ass for all I was worth. We each knew damn well by now what the other needed. And as I railed him, straining to push my meat in deeper and deeper, loving the way his insides fit so snug around me, my boy yelped and whimpered and barked out encouragement, egging me on.
"Oh Coach... oh fuck, Coach... oh fuck yeah... Oh God I love your dick..."
"You're my boy aren't ya?... my stud boy... that's my boy... you're mine, you're all mine..."
"Yessss fuck yesss!... oh Coach I'm yours... take me... fuck me..."
We were role playing, like always. Being exactly what the other wanted and needed. Mentor and boy. Just the way it should be.
"I'm gonna cum so hard into you... I'm gonna shoot so fuckin' deep you'll be tasting it for a week..."
"Fuckin' do it, Coach!... Breed my ass!... Oh fuck, I need it so bad..."
A huge jolt rocked my body as I spurted the first stream into him, my muscles clenching and bucking. It felt so damn incredible, like every pleasure node in my entire body lit up all at once. Then another spurt, and another, and another as I spewed out my whole load. I grabbed his cock and jacked him while my juice still gushed into him, and he exploded in a blast of white hot cream that sloshed and spouted everywhere. The look on his face, that sudden orgasm look of intense, absolute pleasure, the feeling of his hot cum splattering onto my skin, made things even better in every way.
After we'd drained ourselves we lay together and held each other. There were no more roles to play. We just pulled each other close and pressed our bodies together, kissed again, cuddled, smiling at each other like two guys who belonged together, who felt perfectly at ease with each other.
"I can help you out with the kids again tomorrow, right?"
For the next four weeks we trained the kids together by day and rocked my bunk by night. I poured myself into him, drained my balls and his, never quit until we were both drenched in each other's cum -- mine on his insides and his on my outside. It felt so fucking good. I couldn't believe I was lucky enough to have Brady as my boy. The guy was just flat out gorgeous. The way he strained when I pushed my cock into him, his young muscles rippling, veins popping out like roadmaps... beads of sweat trickling over his skin, running along every contour of that perfect body...
And holy fuck, those eyes. I could stare into those eyes forever. Blue as ice and gazing back into mine like nobody else mattered in the world. I could look through those eyes right into his soul and knew he could see into mine too. It was such an incredible connection. Our skins rubbing together, sweat mixing, my meat deep inside him clenched in his sphincter lighting us both up from head to toe... but I swear none of it was stronger, more exciting, more devastating, more fucking satisfying than what was going on between our eyes.
In the fifth week of camp the big guys showed up, the high school studs, and everything started to spin out of control.
Some of them knew Brady, or recognized him. They'd wrestled against him during the season or seen him wrestle at the state tournament. He was a hero to a lot of them, just like any state champ is, but not in the same way he was to the younger kids. To this crowd he was the competition, the one they wanted to prove themselves against. They all wanted to be him, like the little guys did -- but they wanted to beat him too.
Brady took it in stride; he'd put in enough time on the mat with me that his skills were already well beyond the high school level. As hard as they tried, nobody in that group was about to get the better of him -- and Jase and I were always nearby to make sure things didn't get out of hand. This was a training class, not a tournament. But the harder they came at him, Brady only seemed to get more energized. Toward the end of the week it seemed to me he was enjoying it way too much -- and it was beginning to get obvious, from the way he was filling out his shorts.
"Buddy," I said to him that night when we got to my room, "you can't do that shit. These are high school kids."
"They're legal age, most of `em. Like I was last year. And they all want dick, right?" He peeled off his T-shirt. Just the sight of his chest and abs made me quiver.
"Yeah they do, but a lot of `em don't know it yet. All it would take is one guy complaining to his dad. They could shut the whole program down."
"It's wrestling. Wrestling is sex. You can't help getting hard."
I pulled him close, wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him, chest to chest. "It's not wrestling. It's training. There's a difference."
He grinned. "Have you seen that Taylor kid? I know he wants it bad. I could fuck him all night long. Hell, I could fuck all of em. One after another. I mean, look at em all. Tight bodies, nice ripped muscles, and rockin' all that testosterone..."
"Brady--"
I was about to tell him we only fuck within the family, only when it meant something, but I couldn't get the words out. I stopped short because I realized that wasn't really what bothered me. I didn't want to think about him with those guys because I didn't want to think about him with anybody... except me. I wanted him for myself. I hated the thought that Brady might be hot for somebody else.
"Whassa matter?" he taunted, giving my ass cheek a squeeze. "Jealous?"
Yes. I was.
But I sure wasn't gonna let him know that.
I threw him onto the bunk with my best Greco move, mashed down on top of him and started making out with him wildly. He yanked my shirt off over my head, stripped my shorts off, then his own. We rolled around naked on that ratty campus mattress more aggressively than we had for many months, when sex between us was new and we'd been crazy hot for each other. Of course we were still crazy hot for each other, but over time we'd gotten civilized. We'd learned how to play together and read each other's moves and feelings, and take things slow and easy. Now we were back to mauling each other like two wild apes again.
We made out brutally, lips crushed together so hard they were practically bruised. Tangled up our arms and legs and wrenched each other, flexing and stressing our bodies to show off our strength to each other. Grabbed and squeezed and pulled at each other with a genuine vengeance. It was what I remembered most about when we first got together, the way he hadn't known sex from wrestling, couldn't figure out what he should do with a guy besides roll around and battle for advantage like he did on the mat. I missed the days when he was like that.
As we struggled with each other I couldn't quit thinking about Brady fucking one of those 17-year-old stud boys. The thought of it made my cock hard beyond belief. I wanted to see him do it but even more I wanted to be one of those hot young fuckers getting slammed in the ass by my boy. I rolled him onto his back and straddled him, grabbed the Vaseline and greased his cock and lowered my hole to it, felt that thick hard meat ram in as I sat down on it hard, taking every inch.
I'd taken his cock before but always like this, with me on top, riding him and controlling all the action. It's the way a mentor was supposed to train his boy -- but that wasn't what I needed now. I needed that stud to pound me, to rail me. To give it to me hard and long and show me what he's made of. Just like he would to those high school boys.
"Roll me the fuck over and bang my ass," I growled.
"Coach?"
"Don't ask any goddamn questions. Just show me what you can do with that big dick."
Brady's eyes lit up and he grunted like an animal, and in seconds I was on all fours with that stud plunging into me from behind. He fucked me like a wild man, humping and slamming and banging, giving me all the cock I'd ever dreamed of. God, it was so exactly what I needed. I loved the way his muscular arms clenched around me, the way his whole body strained to shove his dick into me, the way his hot breath buffeted the back of my neck in short heavy bursts. He fucked me and fucked me like he was never going to stop, and I didn't want him to. I only wanted that thick cock inside me, filling me, pounding me, splitting me wide open. It was what I'd been dreaming about and didn't even know it.
Brady reached way down and gripped my balls, wrapped his other hand around my cock and jacked me furiously. I knew what that meant. That hard driving pace he'd been keeping up slowed and his thrusts became even stronger and more intense. He let out a loud deep moan and slammed into me again and I knew he was shooting, and the thought of my boy blowing his seed up my ass pushed me right over the edge. I felt my whole body tense up and hang on the brink, and then suddenly release in a surge of heat and pleasure and cum. I blew out what felt like the biggest load of my life, my cum spouting all over the sheets, my sphincter spasming on Brady's rock solid meat. The feeling was so fucking intense, racing through me in swarms. He was still shooting inside me and I was spurting and jerking and bucking, held tight in his strong arms until we both leaked out the last of our juices and collapsed together in a pool of my warm thick cream.
I held him in my arms and we kissed a long, long time. Neither of us said a word. We just lay there and held each other, loving the feeling of skin on skin, our slow deep breaths grazing over each other's shoulders, our hearts thumping against each other in our chests.
Eventually, just like every night, he went home to his parents' house and I got on the phone with Carter and told him all about it.
"I love Brady," I said.
"Of course you do. He's your boy."
"Yeah, but more than that. I'm in love with him."
A pause. "What do you mean?"
"Not like I'm in love with you. You're everything to me. Nobody else could ever be my true brother, nobody could ever come between us. But I'm in love with Brady too. Deeply. Completely. It's not just a mentor-and-boy thing."
"How do you know?" he asked.
"Because of the way I feel. I look at his body and I'm instantly hard. I look in his eyes and I swear my knees get weak, I can barely fucking stand. It's intense. Every time we're in the same room together he lights me up. I'm in love with him."
"No, I mean how do you know it isn't a mentor-and-boy thing? I mean, you're in love with Jase, aren't you? Because I'll tell you right now I'm in love with Kyle."
He wasn't getting it. "Yeah but... it's different. Boys are always in love with their mentors. Of course I love Jase but it's not the same."
"Okay. But how does he feel about you?"
I started to say something back but caught myself. The answer may not be as obvious as I thought.
"That's a very good question. I'll have to talk with Jase about it. Can you help me figure out what I should say?"
"Sure." He snickered. "If you don't mind listening to me stroke one off. All this talk about you and Brady and Jase has my cock as hard as a fucking rock."
Hope all you Brady fans had a good time with that one. Looks like our hero has a few things to work out between himself and Carter, and Jase, and Brady -- especially Brady. I like writing about that gorgeous young stud, so we're liable to be seeing a lot more of him. So, stay tuned! And please after you blow a nice hot load consider making a donation to the site, so my family of wrestlers and all the other smoking hot stories will always have a home!