Monday, the day after we got back from the NCAA nationals. Everyone was back from spring break and the campus was buzzing, but the wrestling room was quiet. Team practices -- the official kind -- were done until next fall, but there was one more big event on the family's calendar. It was time for Carter and me to drag Willis and Brady out in front of the rest of our brothers and announce that they'd passed their first year training and had risen to the next level; they were our equals now, full family members.
We played it all secretive, just like Jase and Kyle had done for us two years ago. All we told them is that we were going to Duncan's and they had to "dress nice." Carter did the driving. He and I sat up front and our boys were in back, the four of us decked out in button-down shirts and slacks. I don't think I'd ever seen Brady dressed like that before -- all cleaned up looking fresh and crisp, and with his buzz cut gelled too. Damn, the kid looked hot as fuck.
We walked our boys down the hall, Brady alongside me and Willis with Carter, silently chuckling to ourselves over how wide their eyes were on their very first trip upstairs. We led them into the Family Room where Duncan was waiting for us, with Jase and Kyle, Travis and Justin flanking him on either side. The boys stopped short in the middle of the floor and froze, gaping at the row of life-size photos on the wall of all the brothers past and present, oiled and naked and standing proudly with dangling meat, a whole array of cocky 18-year-olds with goddamn perfect bodies, bright eyes and bulging muscles and great big smiles for their mentors. You could tell deeply how Duncan felt about each and every one of us, setting aside a whole room in his house to enshrine us on his wall.
The two little studs could hardly get over seeing their portraits alongside the rest of us. They were sizing themselves up against how we'd looked as true freshmen, practically drooling over our pics as well as their own. Our founding father was one hell of a photographer; he sure knew how to capture the essence of naked young wrestlers. Their eyes grazed over the bodies of our brothers from the past, all the brothers they hadn't even met yet. Greg and Ben, and their mentors Matthew and Evan. Jason's mentor Pete and Kyle's mentor Rob. And then they saw the pair of portraits at the head of the room, 18-year-old Duncan and his brother Coach Wilson, and their eyes bugged out completely.
Carter gripped Willis's traps and squeezed while I dug my elbow into Brady's ribs as reminders for them to show the proper respect. They were still excitable boys, and we didn't need them blurting some goofball crack that would wreck the solemn spirit of the event.
Duncan began the ceremony. He wasn't long-winded or anything; it was just a few words to introduce the boys officially as our new family members. Carter and I led them up front to show them off to the rest of the guys while Duncan gave the welcome speech, told them how much they meant to the family and how they'd be our brothers forever.
Our brothers howled and applauded and cheered. Brady stood there grinning, solid as a rock, looking as proud as he'd ever been about anything in his life. He was so goddamn handsome, and the way his muscles bulged through those dress clothes - fuck! My cock had never been harder for him, never needed to be inside him as badly as I did right at that moment. I glanced across the room at Jase, caught the look in his eye, and instantly I knew. It was the same way he'd felt about me, two years ago. It was how every good mentor feels when his boy becomes a man.
The guys all broke ranks and swarmed in on us. Brady and Willis locked up in a hug, holding onto each other tight while everyone crowded around. Carter and I gave them a little time and then pried them apart to collect their congrats. Suddenly there were a dozen hands on them everywhere, griping triceps, squeezing shoulders, slapping asses. The two brand new men looked so happy they could burst... and the way their slacks were tented, it looked like they'd be ready to before very long.
Brady shot me a desperate look. "Coach?"
"It's just Ryan now."
"You're still Coach to me. Can we - "
"Wrestle?" I cut in. He nodded back eagerly. "That's where we're headed next. Keep your dick hard."
We led the parade down to the basement, Carter and I up front with Brady and Willis close behind, and the rest of the guys trailing after us hooting and chattering, all hyped up for a good show. The four of us stripped down and stepped onto the mat together, all boned up like crazy. Willis trotted to the cabinet and grabbed the olive oil while Carter and Brady and I traded playful shoves, flexed and posed for each other. The guys settled in at the sidelines crackling with excitement. Duncan sat front and center and the others squeezed in around him.
Willis brought the oil over to us and for a second we just stood and looked each other over, enjoying the moment and what was about to happen. It struck me all of a sudden like I was noticing for the first time that he and Brady looked awful damn good together. My boy had been working his brother hard to get some muscle packed onto that skinny frame and bring him up a couple weight classes; now they were practically bookends, two muscular young bodies honed to perfection, and two hard eager cocks swelled up to full size and pointing to the ceiling. Their pecs were perfectly matched now, beefy and shredded. Nipples poking out boldly. Abs sliced up like they were goddamn fileted, each ripple a treat for my eyes. If not for their haircuts -- Brady's blond buzz cut and his brother's dark shaggy mop -- you could almost take them for twins, which opened up a whole new can of fantasies on its own.
Carter took one look at me and knew just what I was thinking; I swear he could read my mind. We exchanged a glance and a smile, our own cocks just as boned as our boys were, and just as ready. He took the oil and poured a little into his hand and then passed the bottle around, and all four of us got to work.
I ran my palm down Brady's chest, over his abs and all the way to his crotch, our eyes locked in on each other the whole time. He spread two handfuls of oil over my delts and along my triceps, down my forearms and the backs of my hands, slid his fingers in between mine. For just a moment I gripped his hands tight and leaned in until our chests were pressed together, our nipples grazing and teasing each other, then backed off and got to work slickening up his arms.
Jesus, he felt amazing. His muscles were so smooth and so damn firm; I squeezed and massaged them, loving the way they responded to my touch, how supple they were and so relaxed but so obviously longing for action. He reached around my waist on both sides and slathered oil over my obliques and my lower back, up my spinal erectors, across my lats, swaying gently from side to side almost in a dance.
Brady knelt in front of me while he oiled my ass cheeks and hamstrings. My hard cock was straining for attention and he let it brush against his face in a way that made me shiver. I cradled the back of his neck in one hand as I rubbed his traps and delts, his eyes never leaving mine. Not even a step away, I heard Carter panting as Willis's oily fingers explored his crack, heard Willis softly whimper as my brother tickled his balls. Felt their body heat so damn close by, the four of us wrapped up together in a thick moist vapor of sweat and musk.
It was my turn to get to work, and I pulled Brady up to his feet, knelt down in front of him and oiled his legs. I oiled his calves first, meaty and round and twitching in my grip, let my hands glide down to his ankles and then back up his shins, tracing each tendon with my fingers. I greased each of his knees carefully front and back, examining how they were put together, bone and muscle and tendon and ligament, how they felt and how they responded to the pressure of my thumbs. The young stud was like a racehorse; his legs were so fucking strong. He trusted me the way a horse trusts his trainer, his master. He was all mine to do with as I pleased, not equal like my brother was but more like my property, like I owned him, head to toe. Just like Jase owned me. God, the thought of it made my cock ache.
I rubbed a good coating of oil over his quads, massaged it over his hamstrings, grabbed his ass cheeks and squeezed. He smiled back at me so fucking sweetly I nearly lost my breath. His cock was bobbing slightly up and down, pulsing with his heartbeat, and I wanted so bad to wrap my lips around it, take it into my mouth and suck and suck till he blew every last drop of cum in his balls straight down my throat but it wasn't time yet, it was way too early, we had a long way to go before then.
I felt something nudge my shoulder - it was Carter's thigh; he was standing right next to me holding his boy from behind, his chin resting on Willis's traps, pecs against his shoulder blades and hips mashed into those firm eager glutes, hands roaming freely over Willis's freshly sculpted chest and abs and wandering down to his crotch, giving him a nice final top coat of oil.
I rose to my feet and stood face to face with Brady, still gazing into those beautiful eyes. At first we just smiled at each other, not even moving, completely open to each other and sharing our feelings without a word. Then as natural as could be I reached over and took his stiff cock in my hand, and I felt his fingers curling around mine. I rested my free hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing, and he did the same. We stroked each other gentle and slow, feeling such a goddamn powerful connection I'd swear we were two halves of one person.
"What the fuck are you guys doin'?" Kyle bellowed from the sidelines. "Show us some action, goddamn it!"
All four of us erupted in giggles. We traded looks all around and then squared off in pairs, Carter with his boy, me with mine. Four stiff cocks silently grumbling at us for breaking off our clinch without a release.
I was the first to lunge in on a shot. I went for a double leg, and got a big enough piece of him to hang onto. I powered into him and took him to the mat, and the two of us scrambled for control, our hands slipping and sliding all over each other. Seconds later I heard a THUD and felt a tremor as Carter took Willis down right next to us and quickly pounced on him, covered him and held him down with his full body weight.
Brady fought to escape but I blocked each of his moves and kept him at a disadvantage, if not exactly immobilized. We wrestled hard but weren't really getting after it like we might have during the season; it was all free time now, there was no meet to prepare for and no sense getting ourselves beat up. But God, we loved wrestling each other, testing our strength and skills, man against man. Our bodies grinding together slick and smooth felt like absolute heaven. His muscles and mine battling for dominance, conditioned to react and respond to every situation, trained to sense each weakness and each opening and use it to launch an attack.
And that's really what wrestling is all about, and what makes it so damn addictive. When your body's at the point where you can act without thinking, when you automatically sense what needs to be done and execute just the way you've been trained, it puts you on a whole new level. Life has enough shit going on to fuck with your head. If you can switch on the autopilot for seven minutes and just let your bodies go at it and focus on how damn good it feels, you're way ahead of the game.
My cock was enjoying every second of it. Rigid as a flagpole, it was rubbing on every part of my boy's body as he squirmed and wriggled and spun around struggling to break free; his beefy quads and hamstrings, those gorgeous ass cheeks, powerful arms, back and chest and abs, and of course his own stiff meat. And I loved how his hard cock rubbed up against my muscles, poking, prodding, gliding along the lines of my body. There's nothing like the feeling of two leaned-out, muscular bodies lubed from head to toe, all tangled up in each other and meshing together.
I could hear Willis's frantic little whimpers as Carter dominated him, so close by us their arms and legs brushed against us now and then. My brother's hot breath -- or his boy's -- blasted our shoulders and necks whenever their heads turned our way; droplets of their sweat showered us with every one of Carter's sudden moves. Just as they were surely bathing in ours.
None of us were complaining. It was part of the melee; it made things all the more visceral and exciting. Wrestling was never just about two people. It was a culture, a community, an attitude and a lifestyle of muscle and sweat, of strength and action and grunting and meat and musk. Crowding in on our brothers' match and having them crowd in on ours just made it feel all the more natural and satisfying.
In the background I could hear the other guys murmuring to each other, sort of a low rumble from the edge of the mat. I didn't make out what they were saying but I knew they were critiquing the action, making comments about our wrestling and our bodies. That was fine too; none of us would ever have got this far if we didn't like showing off. They might have been treating us like we were just so much meat, but fuck it, we were four goddamn exquisite slabs of meat.
The more Brady struggled, the more I worked to keep him wrapped up and under control... and the more my cock needed to be inside him. He was such a gorgeous guy and he felt so good in my arms, I swear I could have shot a load right then and there. And it didn't hurt that I knew how bad he wanted it. I could feel his shaft twitching every time it touched my leg, and I could feel those little globs of warm sticky precum it left on me like a snail's trail.
After a while we weren't really even wrestling anymore; we were still going through the motions of it but neither of us were making a serious effort to improve our positions. I had him locked down and was just sort of basking in the feeling of his flesh against mine. He pushed back just hard enough and in just the right spots to show he was a competitor who knew what he was doing, but he seemed as comfortable with his situation as I was. I shifted into a cross-body to try for a turn, more out of obligation than anything; he glanced back for a second and our eyes met, and it was all over. The match was done.
We gave up on wrestling completely and attacked each other, arms wrapping around and squeezing each other so frantically and so fucking tight we could've cracked ribs. I chomped down on his shoulder, loving the salty, oily taste of his skin as he gnawed on my ear, both of us letting up barely enough to keep from drawing blood but we'd each be going home with teeth marks. We locked eyes again, grinning hugely, and I threw him down on all fours, moved in behind that stellar ass and pried his knees apart wide.
I could hear sort of a quavering in his breath as I inched up and closed in; Brady wanted my cock just as bad as I wanted to give it to him. I pressed my swollen head to his hole and he eased back and practically gobbled it up. It slipped in easily, and I flexed my hips and drove that oily shaft into him all the way to my balls in one smooth clean stroke. He gasped and groaned with pleasure. It'd been a long time for both of us; I was so busy with the Big Tens and then the NCAAs that we hadn't linked up in a while.
I felt his hole gripping my meat with both the outer and inner rings, and holy fuck, it was just as fresh and tight and insanely satisfying as when I'd given his 17-year-old ass its very first taste of cock nearly two years before. He'd grown so much since then, not in height or weight but in strength and maturity and muscle tone. I knew I was responsible for a good part of it, for turning that raw young highschooler into a world class stud. And God, it made me want to fuck him all the harder.
I reached around with my right hand and curled my fingers around his shaft, steadied myself with my left hand on his hip and started pumping good and strong. My boy grunted and yelped, loving the attention, and thrust back to grind on my cock as I banged him. We were good together; we'd always been. Brady was always so eager for it, and I was always so fucking hot for him. Just being near each other was an instant boner for both of us. My rock hard cock inside that tight warm ass was a dream come true for him as much as for me.
There was no doubt that once we got started, Carter and Willis wouldn't keep wrestling for long. I'd seen them spying on us out of the corners of their eyes as soon as we called our match off. Now they were playfully shoving each other around and trying out chokeholds -- a little wrestler foreplay. When I picked up the pace and started pounding my boy harder, Carter rolled Willis onto his back and dove in on him. The boy's legs rose up and locked around my brother's waist, and Carter plunged into him, romping and bucking.
I was plumbing Brady's hole as intensely as ever before, really railing him heart and soul -- just as I should have, now that he was a full-fledged man -- and he let me know much he appreciated each and every strong thrust. His body quaked, his muscles flexed and rippled each time I drove in deep, spurring me on like nothing else to keep going, harder and harder. His grunts and moans were full of lust and longing, pleading with me to never stop. I wanted to just fuck him and fuck him all night, all morning, all through the day. My balls were aching to blow but all I wanted was to keep fucking my boy until we both collapsed from exhaustion.
I glanced over at Carter and he flashed me a grin. He changed up his rhythm and matched me stroke for stroke, and suddenly my brother and I were in a race to the finish, pacing each other and egging each other on. It was an incredible moment, the two of us fucking our boys together, in perfect sync. Soon enough the boys were in on it too; their grunts and moans were coming in tandem, combining, merging into one. Their eyes locked onto each other, Willis on his back and Brady on knees and elbows, and even their bodies flexed and rippled together as Carter's cock and mine drilled into them, drew back, and drilled in again.
It was a genuine four-way fuck, each of us linked with two partners at once, and all of us humping as one.
You can't expect anything that perfect and that fucking hot to go on forever. It was a minute, half a minute, maybe just a handful of seconds in real time; in our heads it was practically timeless. But urges and needs can only be put off for only so long, and then it all breaks down.
I think Willis was the first one to falter. Halfway through a breath his lungs seized up like in a hiccup and a quiver streaked through him head to toe. His grunts broke stride with Brady's and he yelped out, "Oh fuck, oh FUCK!" Carter knew what was up. He pitched in and started pounding the boy double-time, eager to catch up so they could blow their loads together.
I tried to keep up with my brother, plowing into Brady's ass faster and harder -- but Carter was always a beat ahead. And then Willis gushed out a great big spurt that splattered over both of them, and my brother drove in hard and deep and stayed buried deep in him, muscles straining, his whole body twitching and jerking.
Brady and I watched for a moment and then focused on each other. I leaned in with both arms wrapped around him, my cheek resting between his shoulder blades. I slammed my meat into him as hard as I could, holding on tight to help absorb the shock. Slammed into him again, squeezing and jacking his meat. Slammed one more time, kissing and licking his back, fingering his cock head. "Gimme your fuckin' load," I whispered, and Brady could only whimper back weakly.
I'd swear we both blew at the exact same time. One more slam, and I couldn't hold back any more. The cum that had been welling up in me unleashed with a jolt and I poured my hot cream into him, just as his cock erupted in my hand, spouting thick juice all over the mat. I held my boy in my arms and felt his whole body clench and spasm, both of us rolling in waves, spurting and spurting our cream like nothing else in the world mattered.
We all drained ourselves, letting the cum flow out of us in gushes and streams. When we'd finally stopped twitching, Carter and I pulled out of our boys, and the four of us grouped together in one big mashup of sweaty, oily muscle. I fucking loved how it felt to be all tangled up with them, arms and legs and torsos crammed together, our cocks limp and dangling and dripping out the last of our juices onto each other.
The rest of the guys were huddled on the sidelines, arms draped around one another, stroking each other's meat. "Damn," Duncan said. "We're gonna have one hell of a strong team next season."
We all grinned back at him, too wrecked to move, until Willis began to fidget.
"How's that gonna work?" he asked. "Brady and I are the same weight now."
"You won't be," Jase growled back. "You're gonna cut back to one forty-nine, Brady's gonna wrestle one fifty-seven."
Carter frowned. "But I'm at one fifty-seven."
"Well then you'll just have to get bigger, won't ya? You and Ryan will wrestle one sixty-five and one seventy-four. One or the other, I don't care which. Take your pick."
He gave me a look. "Sure, I'll go up a weight class. Or two, if... "
"Why don't you move up to one seventy-four? I'll stay at one sixty-five. I've been the bigger guy long enough," I told him. "It's time I found out what it's like to have a real muscle stud for a brother."
Duncan nodded. "Sounds good. Carter, better get on it soon, you've got seventeen pounds to pack on."
"He'll be ready, I'll make sure of it," I said. "But right now I hear the shower calling us. Brady, Willis - "
"We'll get the mops," my boy grinned.
Hey guys, I finally got busy and found a few more pics to give you an idea of what all the wrestlers look like in my head. I've got a new one for Justin now that he's a heavyweight and for Willis with more muscle, for Duncan's mysterious brother Coach Wilson, and for our non-family teammates Andy, Marcus, and Shafe. I also found some for the Indiana guys -- Noah, Dave, Aiden, Troy, and their coach Pete -- and for Ryan's South Dakota buddy Jack. Drop me an email and I'll send you the links. And as always, stay tuned!
And guys, as usual, I'll remind you that this website offers a lot of good times and doesn't ask for much in return. So please, after you blow a nice hot load consider making a donation, so my family of wrestlers and all the other smoking hot stories will always have a home!