I couldn't wait to get back to campus and back to the wrestling room. No matter how much time I spent with Carter over the summer it wasn't enough. I needed more. I needed him with me every day and every night, but not just Carter either, and not just Travis and Justin and Jase and Brady and the family. I needed the whole team, surrounding me, on the mat, in the gym, in the locker room and the showers. I needed that mashup of wrestler flesh on a continual basis. It was the only thing that made me feel good and normal.
You have to understand that wrestlers are focused on our sport more completely than any other athlete. We live it, 24/7. We think about it every minute of every day. We can't walk past a guy on the sidewalk without thinking about how to take him down, subdue him, get the pin. I mean, you don't see swimmers thinking about racing random people on the street. For us, it was part of our DNA. The best thing, the most important thing in the world was to be all mashed up with thirty other guys who felt the same, even if most of them didn't really understand what it was all about. Guys who shared the same hunger and fire and frame of mind.
As soon as Carter and I got to our dorm room we started assembling our makeshift mat. We laid down the carpet pads carefully and duct taped them in place, layered them one on top of the other, taking our time to get it exactly right like an almost religious ritual. As we worked, the other guys stopped by to say hi and watch a while. Nearly the whole team, all the ones who hadn't graduated, were making the rounds and checking in with each other. We looked each other over, checking each other out, seeing who packed on some muscle over the summer and who needed to drop some weight. Mostly we were just full of grins for each other, so happy to be together again, happy to be part of a team.
When we finished, Carter shut the door and we each stripped naked and rolled into my bunk together, clenched our arms around each other and squeezed. I loved being in bed with my brother. I loved sucking his cock and seeing how I could make his whole body twitch. I loved feeling his meat inside me, filling me, owning me and making me his, shooting his seed deep into my guts. I loved railing him slow and sweet, giving him all the cock he needed, edging us both until we couldn't stand it any longer and we burst into furious fucking and erupted like geysers.
But all that would come later. Right now we just needed to hold each other, not even moving a muscle, eyes shut, my arms wrapped around him and his around me, legs intertwined, our chests pressed together so tight we could feel each other's heartbeats. We needed to lie together and shut out the rest of the world, and remind each other what it was like to be so fucking close, to know we'd be together now and tomorrow and next week and next month and forever. Our abs were perfectly matched and perfectly aligned, lightly grinding on each other as we breathed slowly in and out. Our twin cocks were mashed up side by side and rock hard and leaking all over us, just from the excitement and the relief of being home.
With my brother in my arms and our naked bodies pressed together I could forget about all the bullshit of the world and focus on what was real. I could feel his scruffy cheek against mine and I knew it was all that really mattered. It was sweltering hot in the room and we held each other and sweated and loved the smell and the warmth of each other and the feeling of our slick wet dripping bodies. We stayed just like that for an hour, maybe two, as rigid as statues, just being naked and clenched together and drinking each other in through our skins.
Someone banged on the door. "Get your skinny asses out here! We're goin' to dinner!"
Travis.
"Keep your dick in your pants," Carter called back. "We'll be out in a minute."
Brady was struggling in the wrestling room. It was obvious from the very first day of training.
He didn't have the same edge as he did last spring, when he'd plowed through all the competitors in the state tourney. Granted he'd been up against high schoolers and now he was facing Division I NCAA, but even against the other incoming freshmen he seemed lackluster and off his game. The rest of the redshirts were hyped as hell, out to make their mark and establish their place on the team. Brady just seemed to be coasting through like it was any other day.
Of course I blamed myself. It couldn't have been anyone else's fault. I'd been working with him for months; I'd helped him develop his skills far beyond the high school level so he'd have a smoother transition but it looked like all I'd done was make him too comfortable for his own good. I remembered how it was for me when I first showed up on campus. My head was spinning in seven different directions at once. I felt like I was drowning. I felt desperate and panicked and alone, just like I knew all those other redshirts were feeling. I only wanted to save him from that, to give him a feeling of self-confidence and belonging from the very beginning. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe that panic and uncertainty was exactly what he needed starting out. And now it was too late to backtrack and start over.
I talked to Duncan and arranged a time Brady and I could spend together in his basement workout room, one on one. It was a bit early for that by the family's normal schedule but after hearing me out he agreed it was needed. I brought my boy over on Thursday night and we stripped down to our shorts and ran through some drills. He had the moves down, just like I'd been showing him since last spring. But he didn't have the snap, the spark that would make all the difference in a live match. So I worked with him, as patiently as I possibly could, explaining all the philosophy of wrestling and the mindset it would take to make him a winner at this level. He seemed to understand but we'd run the drills again and he was just as unmotivated as ever.
It didn't help me at all that Jase had strolled in when we were halfway through our routine, and sat at the edge of the match watching. I tried my best to ignore him but I knew he was sneering at everything I did, scowling at us, and every once in a while making little hissing sounds of disapproval. Finally I'd taken Brady as far as I thought I could in one night. I grabbed the olive oil from the cabinet and told him to peel off his shorts. He deserved a little playtime after all our hard work, even if the training hadn't clicked in the way I'd hoped. I oiled his body -- he was so fucking amazingly gorgeous -- and he oiled mine. I rubbed it over his muscles lovingly, feeling those beautiful contours and cuts, those incredible jutting nipples and that big beautiful cock.
Jase sputtered and grumbled from the sidelines. Suddenly he jumped to his feet and tore off his workout gear, strode onto the mat stark naked and snatched the bottle of oil from my hand. Upended it and poured it over his torso; slathered it crudely over his beefy pecs and his sculpted abs and his eager, rigid meat. Thrust the bottle into Brady's hand and then without warning launched himself at me, hit me waist high and took me down to the mat in a heartbeat before I had a clue what was happening.
I scrambled to turn over and avoid the pin, and worked to establish my base but Jase didn't have wrestling on his mind. As I pushed up to all fours he jammed his knees in between mine and forced them open wide, clamped his arms around my ribs, collapsed my elbows and drove his chest into my back and mashed my face into the mat.
I was helpless, my ass in the air, cheeks spread, unable to move and no hope of escape. Jase teased my hole with the tip of his cock and then rammed it in hard, the whole length of his meat thrusting into me. I couldn't help howling in pain. For just a second I saw Brady off to the side gaping at us, a look of shock and alarm on his face. Then my eyes teared up and I shut them tight as Jase began pounding me, banging away like a pile driver, grunting with ruthless pleasure. Each powerful jab of his swollen meat into my poor overstressed ass rocked my entire body, made my breath stick in my throat.
So it looked like I was still being punished. Jase was still pissed off at me because I broke ranks and decided for myself how I should handle my boy instead of following the family's program. But this wasn't the first time I'd taken a punishment fuck. I knew I could deal with whatever he had to dish out to me and much more. If I had to take a thrashing from him every damn day from now until graduation I'd do it, as long as my boy got what he needed. Besides, Jase never did understand how goddamn hot it made me when he was pissed off at me. From the second he took me down to the mat my cock was as stiff as a board. Every time he slammed into me made me quiver and drip, and only made me want it more and more.
I yelped and yowled as he drove that thick veiny meat into me again and again as hard as he could, his slick hips crashing into my oily cheeks with a wet juicy smacking sound. His big muscled body engulfed me, held me firm, squeezed and crushed me in his grip. The smell of his anger was all over me, a sharp musky scent heavy with acid, choking me and burning in my nostrils. And all the while he kept fucking and fucking me, mashing my face into the mat with one strong hand, reaming my hole with that rock hard, man-sized cock. Holy Christ was I ever in goddamn ecstasy. Nothing else on earth was like being fucked by my mentor, being destroyed by Jase's big beefy dick. I was dripping like crazy. I wanted to cum so bad I tingled all over.
"Take my fucking cock," he growled into my ear, "I'm gonna pound you till you're bruised inside and out."
That was it. I completely lost it. My body jerked and a huge spurt of cum jolted out of me, splattering over the mat and my own abs. I was twitching from head to toe and wailing like a bitch, spouting more and more hot cream from the bottom of my soul, my balls pulling up so tight it felt like they were caught in a vise. Jase felt me blowing my load and growled into my ear like an animal, drove in deep, tensed up and unleashed himself as my hole clenched onto his spewing cock and milked him until he'd poured out every last drop.
Oh fuck, nothing had ever felt better in my life than that huge release after the pounding I'd taken. I spurted myself dry and my cock kept on throbbing, straining to wring every last bit of fluid from my depleted balls. Every muscle in my body was shattered, limp and useless, and I curled up in a ball in Jase's arms and moaned and whimpered softly. He held me and stroked my head and growled deep and low into my ear, and I snuggled into his armpit and breathed in his rank stench. There was something about being punished by Jase that felt so fucking fulfilling. I'd suffer his rage and then I'd be chastened, absolved, forgiven. I'd be his good boy again.
I honestly don't know exactly what happened next. I was in sort of a daze, but a good kind. I think Jase showed Brady where to get the mop, and somehow I found my way to the shower. I remember Jase coming in and joining me, soaping my body, rubbing my muscles. He was so careful and tender. I loved the way his strong hands felt.
I drove Brady back to his dorm in silence, trading looks back and forth but never saying a word. Neither one of us wanted to be the first to bring up what had happened.
The next day he showed up at my room while Carter was at class.
"Coach..."
I looked up from my textbook. "It's Ryan. You can call me by name. I told you."
"No. Coach. You need to be my coach right now. What Jase did last night..."
I sighed. My ass was still sore as fuck.
"Don't worry about that. Jase is pissed off at me about something. He gets like that sometimes. It's okay, we understand each other. He wasn't really trying to hurt me or anything..."
"I need that," he broke in.
"You -- " I stopped short, not sure what I'd heard.
"What Jase did to you, the way he treated you. I need that. I know what you've been trying to do and I appreciate it, really it's been great. But that's not what I'm here for. I know you're gonna find a brother for me, and I can love him and we can depend on each other and all that. That's what I need from him but that's not what I need from you."
"It'll take us a while to find someone. We don't even know yet who we want for the family."
"It doesn't matter. I'll wait as long as it takes. Coach, I'm here to wrestle. But if I'm gonna wrestle, I need to be tough. I need discipline. I need you to treat me the way Jase treated you."
For a moment I just stared. Then I broke into a big grin. I stepped in close, laid an understanding and supportive hand on his shoulder and then in one quick move snagged him in a headlock and dragged him down to the mat.
Brady squirmed eagerly in my arms as I wrestled his shirt off and yanked down his shorts. I peeled off my own shirt working hard to keep him under control; as much as he wanted what was coming, we were still wrestlers after all, and neither one of us wanted him to give anything away too easy. Naturally his cock was plumping up and stiffening nicely from the minute we hit the deck. I gave it a couple good long strokes, then latched onto his balls and gripped them tightly to make sure he wasn't going anywhere while I finished stripping. I pulled my workout shorts down a bit at a time with one hand as he kicked off his shoes and wriggled out of his own shorts that I'd left looped around his knees.
With both of us bare ass naked now, I launched directly into foreplay -- which for a pair of wrestlers meant a show of dominance. I sure couldn't stake a claim to that sweet ass on force of personality alone; he needed to be shown who was boss. Brady pushed up from the mat and tried to establish his base but I got a leg in and shut that down, snagged his arm, and with a quick shoulder roll I broke him down again. He tried once more, made it to his knees and began an attempt at a sit-through but I saw it coming, locked him in with an arm bar, drove forward and put him back down on his face. God I loved his smooth young body. Every ripple of those gorgeous muscles sent a great big twitch to my cock. And as hard as he struggled against me, I knew Brady was loving it too. Nobody wants a wrestling mentor who can't even whip your ass in a good hard match.
We rolled around a while longer; Brady tried his best to escape but whatever move he made I saw it coming and shut him down, and kept him under control. My cock was aching for him and I saw the way his ass was puckering, begging for attention. We were both dripping sweat, our bodies slick and smooth and wet. It was time that boy had his first jungle fuck. I let him raise up on all fours, spit in my palm and rubbed it over my meat, then thrust my wet fingers into his hole. My boy twitched and whimpered with excitement. This was going to be one he'd remember.
I touched my cock head to his hole, pressed gently for a moment and then rammed it in hard, sliding my whole meat deep inside him. Brady yelped and then moaned long and loud feeling my thick shaft invade him, forcing his insides open with no warning. Instantly I began pumping away at him with long hard strokes, slamming my hips again and again on his beautiful beefy cheeks. His whole body jerked and quaked as my barely lubed cock grated in and out through his tender sphincter. It was a new experience for him, full of unfamiliar pleasure and pain. I locked my arms around him and held on tight and just kept on banging and banging away.
Brady was clearly trying hard just to endure. The boy still wanted it more than anything but he hadn't imagined what a solid intense fucking would feel like. I understood how much it hurt, how even the sharp twinges of pleasure were almost too much to bear. I rested my scruffy cheek between his shoulder blades and kept right on fucking. Brady grunted desperately, moaned, blurted out obscenities, quivered and shook. I pinched a nipple with one hand, reached down with the other and gripped his cock. He bit his lip and whimpered weakly as I clenched my arms around him and twisted his nipple and jacked him and banged him even harder.
I could feel his heart pounding, the hot blood rushing through his veins. I could feel his muscles rippling against mine, his besieged ass trembling, begging for relief and at the same time yearning for more. I knew my boy would go to the limit. He wanted to take whatever I could give him, as long and as hard as it came. I wanted to show him what it was like to be wrecked, totally, completely, with no mercy.
He couldn't last much longer. I'd driven him too hard, pushed him too far out of his comfort zone for him to maintain any kind of control. But I wanted to make him blow his load in a way that would leave him shattered. I reached down and gripped his balls, squeezing and tugging them down. With my other hand I stroked his cock, long and slow and brutal, running my fist up and down the stretched-smooth skin of his shaft and giving extra attention to his swollen, overly sensitized head. He grunted and bucked every time I touched that deep red blood-gorged bulb, and I didn't let up on him for a minute, all the while still slamming and grinding away at his tortured hole.
Brady let out a loud wail and blew a huge shot of hot cream, dousing the mat and splattering his chest and abs. He kept spewing, heaving out burst after burst, clamping down on my meat desperately with his sphincter, howling and gushing so much cum I thought he'd never quit. I could feel the fluid surging through his cock as I jacked him and it made my own cock even stiffer, made me bang him even harder. This wasn't going to be a romantic cumming-together moment; I'd wait until he was spent and limp, and then I'd give him my load. Finally he collapsed, exhausted, and still I kept fucking that ass.
A big part of me -- I don't have to tell you which part -- wanted to pull out, flip him over, and spout all over his chiseled abs, his gorgeous pecs, that ungodly handsome face. But it wouldn't have been right. There was a protocol for mentors and boys. I needed to claim my ownership once and for all, and for that I needed to breed him, to blow so deep into his guts I'd be stuck in him forever. I rammed in hard and held it, clenching my glutes to push as far into him as I could possibly go. Then a second long hard stroke and a third, and I exploded. I shuddered all over, my whole body swarming with twitches and tingles. My cum blasted out of me like a firehose, lighting up every fucking pleasure center from my head to my toes. I felt like I poured enough juice into him to fill a milk jug. Brady still moaned and yelped beneath me, taking my load and all my rampaging energy like such a good, good boy.
When Carter came back from class he found the mat mopped clean and tidy. I was laid out on my bunk resting and Brady was asleep, curled up at my feet like a faithful dog. I nudged my boy with my foot and he woke up and smiled, as content as could be.
Carter smirked. "You guys better get your asses in gear. Practice starts in twenty minutes."
"Right, right!" Brady hopped up, pulled his clothes on and ducked out of the room.
My brother and I looked each other over.
"You were right," I told him. "You all were, all along. I get it now. I understand what boys need, and what mentors need to do. The system is there for a reason. It works."
"You could have just believed us to begin with."
"Who, me?" I grinned. "You know me better than that."
"Uh huh. What about Jase? You gonna apologize to him too?"
I mulled it over a second, shook my head and shrugged. "I won't need to. I'll just give him a nice blow job. That'll fix everything. The big stud loves to get his cock sucked."
The boys are back on campus! They're back in training now but they all have a long way to go before they're ready for the season. Our hero Ryan has his role figured out now and Brady is coming on board but there'll be plenty of twists and turns and smoking hot situations along the way. 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!