November came, and the first meet of the season was just days away. It was a hectic time in the wrestling room. Every guy on the team was obsessed with doing his very best, or at least the closest he could get to it after being out of competition for nearly eight months. It was seen as a do-or-die effort for the starters in each weight class to cement their positions in the lineup for the rest of the season, and for the second and third string guys to show they were ready to step up the minute they were needed.
Not that we expected much of a struggle. The meet was at our home gym, against a second-tier MAC opponent; a standard early-season matchup, well before the in-conference dual schedule began. For us, it was supposed to be a tune-up. For them, a chance to see how their guys could do against a more highly ranked team. But wrestling is not a team sport. When you're out there on the mat, it's you against the other guy, man against man. All it takes is one little slip, one unexpected move, and you're on your ass fighting just to survive the match while the other guy racks up four back points, or maybe even a fall.
That's the way it always is, coming up on the first meet of the season. You feel like your whole wrestling career is on the line. You drive yourself crazy worrying about the unknown, and every little thing that might go wrong, and at the same time you can't wait to get out there and go at it, to feed that hunger you've been building up since the last season ended. Yeah we'd been training together in the wrestling room for weeks, but scrimmaging with your teammates just isn't the same as stepping onto the mat with a stranger. Testing each other with every last ounce of your skill and strength and endurance. Feeling that raw muscle straining against yours. Imposing your will, or becoming the victim of his.
We were all so keyed up about the meet; as it inched its way closer, day by day, you could feel the tension rising in the room. I fucking dreamed about it at night, as I'm sure every other guy in the lineup did too. But nobody was as stressed out as Travis was. We'd been working with him; Carter and I, Brady, Willis, and even his big brother Justin had all spent time on the mat with him, getting him as ready, as razor sharp, as goddamn lean and mean as we possibly could. Now it was time for him to deliver. I knew the poor guy was more worried about letting the rest of us down than he was about his own future with the team.
The fateful Sunday afternoon came and we were just about bouncing off the locker room walls, feeling like our heads would explode if they waited one more minute to call us onto the mat and turn us loose. We made a project out of getting Travis to calm down, and I think it helped the rest of us calm down even more, laying our hands on him, massaging his muscles, giving him that eye-to-eye, level and steady talk to focus his nervous energy. Reaching into his compression shorts and squeezing his cock every now and again. Making sure his head and his body were on the same page.
They marched us out onto the floor and we stood there and listened to the damn song with our hands over our hearts, and then it was time for business. We eyed the other side, each one of us trying to find his opponent and pick out his weak spots just from the look on his face and the way he sat in his chair. Up in the stands, parents, a few buddies, and girlfriends, our team's and theirs. Duncan sitting front and center, and Kyle right beside him.
The 125 match was up first, the little guys. They flew at each other like lightning. They were so damn quick on their feet; the shots, the defense, the scrambles came in such a flurry it was like watching a cockfight -- no, not that kind, I mean the kind with chickens -- between two frenzied bantam roosters. The whole team was yelling for our man Caleb like our lives depended on it; we were all up on our feet cheering our lungs out every time he even came close to scoring. When he finally put the match away it was a tremendous release for all of us. I swear there wasn't a limp dick left on our side of the room.
Next was Travis's turn, at 133. With the ice broken we could relax a little, and even our buddy looked cool and composed strutting out onto the mat, a huge boner bulging in his skin-tight singlet. Nobody in the room could have missed it. His opponent played it all stonefaced but you know damn well he took notice too. You can't help but be intimidated going up against a guy who's sporting a great big shank of meat, hard as a rock and looking to skewer you with it - and for a little guy, our boy had a world class cock.
The ref blew the whistle and Travis went to work, with Jase calling out directions from the sideline -- he was always the coach assigned to handle the four family members in the lineup, the lone voice in the crowd we'd focus in on and react to on command. Travis executed perfectly. For maybe the very first time in his life he let go of his doubts and fears and just performed the way he was told, believed in Jase's coaching and threw his body into it heart and soul, established control early in the first period and dominated his man.
He broke the guy down flat in the second and rode him hard, jamming that rigid meat right up along his crack; snared his leg in a bow-and-arrow, grinding him into the mat relentlessly as the guy struggled to break free. Entered the third with a comfortable lead and all kinds of riding time, and met that last desperate all-or-nothing attack with a takedown that sealed the win. Travis trotted off to the showers while the rest of us celebrated, feeling like an enormous weight had been lifted from our shoulders.
I sat and watched the matches at 141 and 149 in a trance, not really following the action or even comprehending what was going on but just staring at the flesh and muscle in motion, quads and pecs and deltoids rippling and straining, damp sweaty spandex clinging to perfectly sculpted ass cheeks and riding up high and tight in between. I wanted so bad to wrestle and fuck every one of them, my teammates as well as the others; my stiff cock was aching to be unleashed and my muscles were begging me to put them to good use. I was sinking deep into the zone. By the time I got onto the mat and faced my opponent I'd be a solid mass of hormones and reflexes. My brain would be cleared of everything but the job at hand, the match and the clock and his body and mine.
When they called Carter's name for the 157 match I couldn't even look; I just retreated to the far end of the gym to stretch and loosen up and burn off some excess energy on the stationary cycle. If anybody so much as spoke a word to me I would have gone off like a fucking time bomb. I heard the ref's whistles and the crowd yelling like they were in another reality, someplace far away, and when they announced my brother as the winner it barely registered except that it meant my wait was over.
And then it was my name blaring over the PA and my turn on the mat. I bounded to center and squared off, and the whistle blew and I pounced. I felt the strength in his arms, the weight of his body, his quickness, all matched with mine. We locked up and battled for control and I reveled in the feeling of his flesh pressed against me, his muscles tense and rigid, his hot breath on my skin, the smell of his sweat burning in my nose. It was so fucking satisfying to be there, in a full-body power struggle with another skilled athlete, on the one hand a complete stranger but also on some level a brother who understood, and who shared the same urgent drive and the same need. In that moment, I genuinely loved him. There is nothing in the world as sweet as wrestling.
I shot in on an ankle pick, elevated, charged forward, put him down and collected my two points. He quickly flipped over on all fours to establish his base and I coiled my arms around his torso, pressed my weight to his back and glued my hips to his, got a leg in and shut down any chance of escape and tangled up with him. He was all mine, and he didn't even know it yet. Jesus Christ, my cock couldn't possibly have been any harder.
Jase's voice reached me from the sideline and suddenly I was a redshirt again, training with him in Duncan's basement, doing everything in my power to please my hero and mentor. Jase barked an order and I obeyed; he could command me to do anything and I'd kill myself trying before I ever let him down.
The man in my arms was a good wrestler but he didn't have a prayer. He squirmed and strained but I held him down, blocked every move before he started to make it, reined in his arms and legs and kept him corralled like he was my misbehaving pet. He was panting hard, his energy failing; I hung on tight, felt his chest heaving, felt his muscles beginning to quiver. I broke him down and worked him into position, just the way Jase told me; drained him to exhaustion, then made the shift and locked up a cradle, turned him and pinned his shoulders to the mat for the fall.
The ref's hand slapped the mat and I shot up to my feet, and the whole world came back into focus and erupted all around me -- lights and colors in a riot of motion, the crowd cheering, my teammates yelling and howling, Jase nodding at me and grinning. The ref made it official and I shook hands with my opponent and busted out a double-biceps pose for my boys, my cock stiff and standing up proudly, then jogged off to the showers still in sort of a daze and feeling an adrenalin and testosterone high. Coach Wilson swatted my ass as I passed by.
I tore my gear off and bounded into the showers, turned the water on full blast and let it pummel me. Something appeared in the corner of my eye and I turned and there was Travis peering in at me from the entryway, stark naked and still boned, still sweated up and as rank as a goat.
"Travis? You been hiding out back here?"
He nodded. "I've been waiting for you. I wanted you to be the one."
"The one what?"
"You know. The tradition. Winner takes cock." He looked at me hungrily. "I want yours in me."
I smiled. "Well, I won too. How's that work?"
"I won first. C'mon man, I need it."
"And what about Justin? His match'll be up in a little while."
"I can't wait that long."
I busted into a grin and held out my hand. "Get in here, buddy."
He hopped into the shower and moved in close, and I pulled him into the stream with me and wrapped my arms around him. God, his smooth little body felt so fucking good, every one of his tight muscles as hard and as perfectly shaped as his cock. We kissed for a long time just letting the water wash over us, and then grabbed the soap and started rubbing each other down. It'd been a long while since we'd fucked, too long. I thought back to the days when Carter and I adopted him, before he had a brother of his own, and how goddamn eager he always was. We'd all grown up a lot since then but nothing had really changed. My cock was just as hard for him as ever.
Travis and I massaged each other's muscles, squeezed and stroked each other's cocks, grabbed asses, teased each other. We always brought out the playfulness in each other. He kneeled down and sucked me in, took me all the way down his throat, and I gently rubbed his shoulders and neck and head. I told him how goddamn hot he was as he fondled my balls and probed my ass, and told him how fucking good it all felt. I wasn't making it up. After a match like that, my whole body was crackling with electricity, and every time he touched me I lit up like wildfire. The hot water and the steam and the whole idea of sex in the locker room showers just made everything that much better. He slurped on my cock tauntingly and I grabbed two handfuls of his hair and held him firm and fucked his face, and he whimpered and yelped his appreciation.
I pulled him up to his feet and kissed him again, tasting my salty precum on his wriggling tongue. I was so goddamn ready for that ass. He draped his arms around my neck and raised one leg, hooked it around my waist, and then the other as well. I underhooked him and held him tight as he lowered himself onto my slick meat, and I felt his hole pressed to my head, then spreading and gripping my shaft as I slid in.
I pressed his back to the shower room wall and thrust in all the way, the two of us making out wildly the whole time. I pumped his ass and mashed my chest to his, felt his hard nipples poking my skin, loved the way he dug his heels into my ass cheeks. I banged him as hard as I could with long slow strokes and attacked his tongue with mine, his thick rigid meat grinding between our abs.
Travis was as excited as I'd ever seen him. His hands were all over me, gripping my muscles and grabbing my hair; his body was writhing and flexing and squirming against mine. He always seemed like such a puppy dog but he could be a real wildcat too. I ate up every bit of it. It only made me bang him more urgently, harder and faster and stronger, and that seemed to be exactly the way he wanted it. I swear I could feel his heart pounding in his chest, thumping right against mine, and I drove in deep again and again to see if I could make him skip a beat.
His yelps came quicker and louder and more frantic, and I knew he was getting set to unload. I clutched him tight, with all my strength, and rammed in mercilessly. His whole body tensed for a moment and then jolted, and his hot cum gushed between us. He trembled in my arms, spilling out his seed, his tight hole clenching in spasms on my meat. It was all the stimulation I needed. I thrust in one last time and blew out a shattering load, spouting thick cream deep into his guts, my whole body tingling with pleasure on each fresh spurt. The two of us bucked and thrashed together, arms clenched around each other as hard as we could, never for even one moment breaking our liplock.
Slowly we finished draining our balls, and the twitching in our cocks subsided. Travis climbed off me, and we stood together for a moment just grinning at each other, and then grabbed the soap again and washed each other down.
We made it back into the gym right as Justin's match at 197 was beginning. Carter waved us over and we grabbed two seats next to him, Travis sitting between us, me with my arm around his shoulders. My brother knew of course, and just snickered and focused on the match; Jase shot a glance our way, rolled his eyes and sneered.
Our guys won all ten matches, every weight class. It was no great surprise; it was the way things were supposed to go, but you can never take anything for granted in wrestling. For the whole team, a big sigh of relief. The season was off to a good start.
"Duncan's," Jase said to me, after we'd finished the final handshakes and left the floor. "Everybody."
"Brady and Willis?"
"No. Just the ones who wrestled tonight."
I nodded. It was going to be one of those full-family-members-only things, no boys allowed.
Carter and I drove over together, let ourselves in and headed down to the basement. The others had arrived before us; Duncan and Kyle were chatting in the corner, Jase in the weight room cranking out a set of dumbbell presses, Justin at the center of the mat peeling off his gear and Travis sitting at the edge watching him. We kicked our shoes off and took our places next to our buddy as the big guy stripped naked and positioned himself on his hands and knees.
There would be no warming up with a wrestling match. That part had been taken care of back at the gym. Justin had demolished his opponent, and he was here now to collect his reward.
Duncan shed his clothes and stepped onto the mat, the bottle of olive oil in his hand -- he liked his lube organic and natural. I gotta say, it never failed to give me a thrill seeing the guy naked. His body was as stellar as they come; he'd only gained muscle mass since his competition days, and was still as ripped as ever. His arms were insanely huge and lined with veins, his pecs like slabs of lean beef, his abs dissected with deep cuts that made each one stand out boldly. A cock, needless to say, that would make any man proud. The stud was a specimen and a half, the perfect one to head our family. His nipples alone had me drooling.
He kneeled in close behind Justin and with hardly a warning plunged in, sinking his meat into the big guy hard and fast, forcing a deep heavy grunt from his lungs. I'd taken that cock myself -- hell, we all had -- and could practically feel it going in. Duncan began pumping that ass with a vengeance, giving it to him just the way every wrestler needs after a good hard victory, the big guy grunting and snorting and begging him for more.
They'd barely got started when Kyle stripped his T-shirt off and waved my brother over. Carter jumped up to his feet and quickly climbed out of his clothes, met his mentor at the far side of the mat. They grinned at each other, felt each other's muscles and traded cock squeezes, and then Kyle was lying him down on his back, Carter's knees were high in the air, and a nice thick rod was plowing into his hole. I loved seeing my brother get fucked by his mentor. Their relationship was so goddamn special, the same as each of us had with the one who'd trained us and made us into men.
Next thing I knew, a meaty paw landed on my shoulder.
I peered up at Jase. "Umm, I already blew one, I'm good."
He scowled. "I know, that takes care of Travis. But you didn't take cock, did you? You know how this goes."
"Yeah. But he needed it. I couldn't say no."
"And you don't have anything left for me?" he growled into my ear.
It wasn't fair, he knew what that shit did to me. The instant I heard that deep voice and felt his hot breath in my ear, my cock was stiff all over again. He reached around just to make sure; if his voice alone hadn't done the trick then his strong hand wrapped around my shaft, his beefy arm across my chest, and the scruff of his chin scraping the back of my neck surely would have. I didn't bother to say another word; I just pulled my T-shirt off and tossed it aside, and then got to work on the rest.
"Good boy," Jase said, dropping his shorts and letting his meat spring free.
We found a clear spot on the mat and I got to work sucking that cock. I loved and respected Jase so much, I could suck him and suck him for days on end without ever getting tired of it. And he showed his appreciation, squeezing my delts, rubbing my head and dicking my mouth. I had a good solid grip on his hamstrings with both hands and I shoved his meat all the way in, until my nose was buried in his pubes. "Mmmmmmm," he hummed, and flexed his hips to push in half an inch deeper. I'd taken his cock every way he knew how, more times than I could count. I felt so fucking good with his meat inside me.
Jase pulled out of mouth, bent down and kissed me and then gripped the back of my neck and shoved me down on all fours. I eagerly spread my knees wide and arched my back to show him how ready I was. He teased my hole with a finger, tickled my balls, reached under and rubbed my meat, and damned if I wasn't leaking -- he shoved his fingers into my mouth and gave me a taste to prove it. Then that son of a bitch draped himself over me, mashed his chest to my shoulder blades, wrapped both arms around my torso, and sank his cock in.
He growled and gnawed on my ear as he thrust that stiff cock into me, again and again. I could feel his abs tightening and relaxing, grinding on the small of my back. It was goddamn wonderful. He pounded away at me, determined to work me up to a big load, even though I'd just blown one barely an hour before -- and I knew damn well if anyone could do it, Jase could. He reached places down deep in me not even Carter had, made me want more than anything to please him, made me feel so completely owned by him I could never hold back; I'd give him whatever I had, whatever he wanted.
Nearby I could still hear Justin huffing and grunting, and Duncan's hips slapping against his massive glutes. The big guy let out a loud bellow and I knew he was shooting his seed. Right on his heels I heard Carter howling, and Kyle goading him on with "Fuck yeah, fuck yeah! Blow that fuckin' juice!" My balls were aching so goddamn bad, like they were straining to pull up a load and get it set for delivery. I couldn't remember ever being so cranked up in my life, listening to my brothers cum right next to me while my mentor relentlessly railed me.
Jase wrapped his paw around my shaft and began jacking me forcefully, slamming that man-sized cock into me with no restraint. The feeling began welling up in me, first in my groin and then spreading over my body. My skin was on fire; Jase's tight ripped muscles lit me up wherever they touched me. I was in his power and he knew it. He could make me explode on command, like flipping a switch.
And he sure didn't make me wait long. Next thing I knew he was driving in deep and mashing down hard on my meat with his hand. I couldn't hold back any longer for anything on earth. My body jerked and I cried out and spurted a long thick rope of hot cream, like I'd been saving it up for days. I twitched and jerked pitifully, my eyes leaking tears as I strained to squeeze out more, but my balls had already been wrung dry. Jase chuckled and kissed the back of my neck and then rammed in one last time, and filled my guts with his fluid.
I crumpled to the mat and curled up in his arms whimpering and he held me close and stroked my head and whispered, "Shhhh... that's a good boy," deep and low in my ear. When my vision cleared and I could focus again I saw Carter across the mat being cuddled by Kyle and giving me a great big smile; Justin looking perfectly content, immobilized in Duncan's best far side cradle; Travis looking over the whole scene from the sideline, grinning hugely. I couldn't even imagine how I'd ever live without this. I just snuggled back against Jase's naked body and breathed easy.
So, now you know what it's like. Before a meet, and especially if it's the first meet of the season, a wrestler is a rabid beast with nothing in his head but grapple and fuck and grapple and fuck. He's one heartbeat away from melting down and bursting into flames. Take away his time on the mat and he could very well go charging up into the stands and rape your dad. And at the end of the day, the only way to straighten him out is to give him what he needs -- a good hard pounding with a nice thick juicy cock.
Another wrestling season off and running! The guys are off to a good start, everybody managed to rack up a win and everybody's fired up to take on all comers. Of course there'll be plenty of challenges to meet, on the mat and otherwise, and as usual our wrestling family will be facing some tough competition and having some very hot times. A few old friends will show up now and again, and a few new faces and smokin' bodies too. So, stay tuned!
And guys, once again, these stories are free for you and me but not for the ones who run the website. I've written for other sites that went out of business and all those hot stories just disappeared. So 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!