It was almost the end of summer. Just one last weekend to go, and six days after that we'd be back on campus, back to team workouts, back to class. Carter's muscling up program had been a huge success; he was more than ready to jump into his new weight class and dominate on the mat. But we weren't quite done with summer just yet. We still had that one last weekend, and a big event we'd been looking forward to for weeks.
The text had come pretty late, not even a week in advance. Justin must've figured we didn't need a lot of notice; we'd be down for it no matter what. He was right. After the last two incredible years, there was no way in hell my brother and I would pass up another trip to the lake house.
He'd begged us to get there early so we rolled out of bed at first light, wolfed down a quick breakfast and hit the road for Wisconsin. Five hours of driving put us on his doorstep at ten minutes past noon. Travis and Justin were waiting for us, lounging on the porch stark naked with dangling cocks and shit-eating grins. They greeted us with nice warm hugs, wrapping their arms around us each of us like long lost brothers. It was one of those moments that didn't need any words. But --
"Get your fuckin' clothes off," the big guy barked. "Where the hell do you think you are?"
We laughed, and stripped down before we even bothered to grab our gear from the car. Sure, we knew the rules. Nakedness wasn't required at the lake house but it certainly was encouraged -- and for us, that meant we'd be naked for the next three days.
Travis and Justin looked amazing, the best we'd ever seen them. They'd been staying on the lake all summer, just the two of them, and they looked tanned and healthy and relaxed beyond belief. All the stresses and strains of the wrestling season, the bumps and bruises and the hardships of training, were wiped clean off the map. It was so fucking great to be with them again after splitting up for three months.
And they were both dazzled by Carter's new body. My brother was up to 183, nine pounds over the limit, which was the perfect place to start from before he leaned out for competition. He'd have plenty of time to get shredded, but for now, he just looked big and muscular and very appealing. Their hands were all over him in a heartbeat, feeling and testing and squeezing his muscles in a way that made us both proud.
We hadn't been in the house five minutes when another car came crunching up the gravel drive. I stepped out on the porch, eager to welcome whoever -- it was Greg and Ben, our old teammates, Travis and Justin's mentors. I broke into a grin; it had been a while. They gave me big smiles back -- it was a second before I even realized I was standing there bare ass naked -- and started peeling off clothes as they pulled their gear and a couple cases of beer out of the car. Carter and I pitched in to help, grabbed a case apiece and hauled them to the fridge.
Ben cornered me in the kitchen, grabbed my dick in a vise grip and squeezed. "You're looking good," he growled, flashing a cocky smirk.
"You too, ya goddamn molester," I snapped back, gripping his ass cheek and jamming my fingers into his crack. But before it went any further, Justin stepped in, wrapped his big arms around Ben from behind and yanked him away.
"Save some of that shit for me!" he bellowed, dragging his mentor back to the group. Travis had already latched onto Greg and was hugging and making out with him on the couch.
And the cars kept coming. Jase and Kyle showed up next, then Evan and Matthew -- I'd only ever seen them once, but they're the ones who'd mentored Ben and Greg; those two were upperclassmen when our mentors were boys. Then Brady showed up with Willis, who'd driven all the way from Maryland and was staying with Brady's parents until the semester began.
"Indiana's here!" Travis chirped excitedly. Sure enough, Noah and Dave and their boys Aiden and Troy were climbing out of their car. And right behind them was their coach Pete, and a guy I didn't even recognize.
"It's Rob," my brother told me. "I've seen his pic on the wall. He was Kyle's mentor. I guess he's Pete's brother."
Rob was enormous. He'd wrestled heavyweight. Stood about six foot three, and was stacked with muscle. I gaped at Justin. "How many did you invite?"
"Everybody."
"Where the hell are you gonna put `em all?"
He chuckled. "They can put themselves wherever they want. But not in the bedrooms. One's for Travis and me. You and Carter have another. Ben and Greg get the third. The rest of `em, they'll just have to deal."
He didn't even mention the fourth bedroom. I was a little bit afraid to ask what his plans were for that.
All the guys brought groceries and beer. We wouldn't starve, and we wouldn't go thirsty either. As news ones arrived and saw us hanging out naked, they didn't even blink, they just stripped. You don't really need to give wrestlers much of an excuse; we go through life looking for chances to bust out of our clothes, especially in a group situation. Within an hour, the place was jammed with meat. I hadn't seen so much raw muscle and bare cock in one place since the locker room at nationals -- but instead of getting all serious and focused for competition, this crowd was grinning, laughing, and every one of them at least semi-hard.
There's an old fable that "clothes make the man," but I guarantee nobody ever turned into a man by putting on a pair of pants. You want to find out what kind of person a guy is, throw him in with a bunch of other guys stark naked and see how he handles himself. A real man will rise to the occasion. It has absolutely nothing to do with what he bought in a goddamn department store.
My buddies and I were never so much in our element as when we were bare ass together. It didn't really have that much to do with sex, aside from the convenience of not having to shed your clothes for it. Stripped to the skin, you show your true self; you've got nothing to hide behind. You're either good with that, or you're not.
There was so much going on I hadn't even noticed one more added to the mix, but he was sure making an instant hit with the crowd. A little guy just about five foot six, a youngster barely nineteen, handsome as all fuck and with a perfectly muscled body that left a trail of wide eyes and hard cocks in his wake as he strolled through the mass of bare bodies. Andy Currock.
Jase stormed up to Justin. "What the hell's he doing here?"
The big guy shrugged. "He's my friend."
"He's not family!"
"He doesn't need to be. I wanted him here, so he's here. My house, my rules. I don't see anybody else whinin' about it."
"But -- " Jase stopped short and just simmered.
Justin gave him a smirk, and called out to the room, "Hey!! Time for a swim! Get your skinny asses down to the dock -- and don't forget to bring beers!"
The crowd erupted in chaos as everybody dug out their towels, grabbed brews and bolted downhill to the lakeshore in a stampede, cocks bobbing and asses bouncing all along the way. It was a sight I wouldn't have missed for anything on earth. As they reached the dock they dropped the towels and launched into the water beers and all without hardly breaking stride, in a stunning display of youthful exuberance at its best.
Brady gave me a wide-eyed look. "So we're swimming naked?"
"Yeah, don't worry," I told him. "This house is on a private little inlet, there's nobody around to call the riot squad."
That was all he needed to hear. The four of us sprinted after the mob, Carter and me and our boys. We hit the dock and vaulted off the end together, stirring up a tidal wave that drenched the whole group.
Everywhere guys were laughing and joking and horsing around in the water, chugging down beers and tossing the empties onto the dock or up on shore. Even Jase had a big grin plastered on his face, goofing around with Kyle, sneaking up behind Pete and dunking him. These were guys you mostly saw deadly grim, wrestling on the mat or training somebody else to. It was life-affirming to see them like this, as close to carefree as they probably ever get, playful as little kids and having a blast.
I could tell from guys' faces there was a lot going on under the water too. Cocks and asses getting teased and grabbed, in the name of fun or maybe something more consequential. Andy was making the rounds, putting himself out there in front of one and all, making sure they knew he was free for the taking -- they only had to reach out their hands.
As they tired themselves out, the guys began climbing back up on the dock, laying down their towels and stretching out. In no time the little dock was jammed with raw beef, guys wedged in shoulder to shoulder -- or whatever body parts were convenient. Carter and I found a little patch to ourselves and our Indiana buddies Noah and Dave quickly slid in, one on either side of us.
We were both more than happy to have them with us; those two were world class cuddlers. I caught Noah's eye and gave him a smile, reached over and reeled him in. He pressed his smooth body against mine and I wrapped my arms around him and held him without either of us needing to say a word. It was a hot day and the sun was beating down on us but his warm body slick with cool lake water felt goddamn wonderful. Within seconds we were making out and grinding our hard cocks together.
Carter and Dave didn't need our help either. They were already tangled up next to us, kissing and licking and nibbling each other all over. In fact, everywhere I looked there were guys paired up and making out, jacking each other, sucking cock. Boys and their long-lost mentors, old friends and new friends. And all of us packed in so close we couldn't move without rubbing up against another pair, like we were all part of one great big writhing muscled-up beast.
And then a familiar voice sounded off: "You meatheads are supposed to be wrestlers? What the hell kinda training is this?"
Duncan. Holy crap, Duncan was here! I broke off my action with Noah for a moment, turned to look and -- Oh shit!! -- right behind him, just over his shoulder -- it was Coach fucking Wilson himself! The two of them stood there in T-shirts and shorts and flipflops looking us over with smirks on their faces like we were a bunch of apes in the zoo. I didn't know what the fuck to do; I just froze for a second, waiting for somebody else to say or do whatever it took to make this somehow okay and normal.
But Justin wasn't about to be intimidated at his own lake house. He gave them a look and snorted. "You two are a little overdressed for this zip code, aren't ya?"
They glanced at each other, broke out in grins and began peeling off their clothes. Hoots and cheers erupted from the crowd. In a heartbeat they were base ass, and jumping into the lake to cool off from the long afternoon drive -- but not before I noticed they were both sporting wood. Damn. It looked like Coach Wilson really was one of us after all. And he had a pretty good sized cock too.
The action on the dock was halted for a while as all eyes were glued to them, grappling and splashing around in the water. When they finally climbed out, everyone was on his feet welcoming them to the party; some hadn't seen either one of them for God knows how long. Brady and Willis kept their distance, intimidated as fuck. But there was one who sure wasn't shy. Andy Currock strode right up to Wilson and looked him in the eye.
"How's it goin', Coach? You're gonna fuck me before this weekend's done."
Coach Wilson looked him over coolly. "Is that so? You sound pretty sure of yourself."
"Count on it," Andy said.
I didn't even have to look. I could hear Jase's eyes rolling around like billiard balls in his head.
And now I understood his objection to Currock being there. He'd told me long ago why Coach never played an active role in family matters. It would be inappropriate, a conflict of interest. A big part of our family life -- hell, pretty much all of it -- revolved around sex, and you just couldn't have the head coach fucking his team, no matter how bad they wanted it. Even being in the same room with it was a problem. You could maybe tell yourself it's okay at a private party in another state, but he was walking an awful thin line.
As the beers ran dry, the guys slowly picked up their towels and their empties and headed back uphill to the house, for refills and to see about dinner. I corralled Justin out on the deck as he was preparing the grill.
"How the hell did you ever get Coach to show up here?" I asked him.
He shrugged. "Easy. I just told him who was coming."
"That's all?"
"Well, yeah. He and Duncan started this family. He mentored Matthew and Rob himself. And you know all about the connection between a mentor and his boy. What's the point of being part of a family if you're never gonna see `em?"
I nodded. It made perfect sense.
"So, speaking of," he said, "have ya seen Rob around?"
"He's as big as a house. Don't tell me you lost him."
Justin gave me a look and spoke slowly and distinctly. "No, that was secret code for `You can stay here if you want, I'm gonna head inside, find Rob, and get fucked good and hard.' Okay?"
"Ah. Gotcha. Carry on."
He gave me a playful thump on the side of the head, turned and headed inside. Hmm. This sounded like it could get interesting. I tagged along behind, leaving enough distance to give him his space but close enough that I wouldn't miss anything.
The guys were all packed into the living room, still bare ass naked, drinking and being sociable. After only a couple beers they were already pretty well lit. That's how it is with guys like us; we weren't the biggest drinkers. On season, off season, even long retired from competition you never want to slack off on your training. There's always your brother to keep you on track, and how would you ever face Duncan if you let yourself get out of shape?
I watched the way they acted together, everyone with their big beer smiles, bright eyes and nonstop banter. Their hands were all over each other, not really in a sexual way but just sort of a touchy-feely closeness, squeezing biceps and delts to maintain a connection, pinching nipples and slapping asses to make a point, or just leaning on each other for support. It was sweet how comfortable they all were, even with guys they didn't really know, because we were all brothers.
Rob was off to the side of the room talking with Jase and Kyle. He seemed to stand head and shoulders above both of them. Justin tromped over and stood right in front of him begging for his attention. Their eyes lit up and zoomed in on each other; they shared that big guy vibe that normal sized people just don't have. In no time they were completely focused on each other, chatting away eagerly.
As they talked, Justin's hand would casually brush against Rob's package, purely incidental of course. Or he'd lean in to say something right into Rob's ear, so close their nipples would touch. The big stud's cock had been dangling long and meaty but soon it began to rise. Justin kept teasing and egging him on with more body contact, a squeeze of his hand, a reach underneath to tickle his balls. In minutes Rob was fully boned -- with my beer goggles on, his cock looked a full foot long, and thick enough to choke a gorilla -- and that was enough to get Justin fired up. They were still joking around and acting social but their eyes and a little twitch in their jaws said it wouldn't stay casual for long.
That was just about when a hand slipped around and wrapped around my meat, and another gripped my ass cheek. Carter and Travis were just making sure I didn't feel left out. I clued them in to the action; Travis glanced over at his big brother and let out an excited yelp. "Come on," he said, "we gotta find a good seat for this!" He led us to one of the couches and we swung it around for a prime view of the show, then plopped our asses down with my brother and me on either side and our buddy in the middle. All we needed now was some popcorn.
Justin had been leaning in closer and closer; now he took Rob's meat in his hand and began stroking in long even motions, keeping up with the conversation like it was the most natural thing in the world. Rob just grinned, flexed his triceps a bit, then laid his hands on Justin's traps and gently applied pressure, guiding him down.
Our big buddy went down easily, and in seconds he was kneeling on the floor taking Rob's meat in his mouth, sucking it in slowly inch by inch until he had the whole thing shoved down his throat. The three of us on the couch were practically breathless watching him bob back and forth on it, gulping it down and then easing back to let it glide smoothly out again, glistening with his spit. The other guys in the room had to see what was going on but were playing it cool, like it was nothing unusual -- except I couldn't help notice their cocks were getting harder, their conversations were amping up in energy and pitch, and their muscles twitched every now and again, whenever Rob or Justin let out a particularly earthy grunt.
Travis was enjoying every minute. He loved seeing his big brother swallow dick, almost as much as he loved taking it from him. As the two bull studs thrashed and squirmed he reached out right and left, took Carter's meat in one hand and mine in the other, and jacked us in rhythm with Justin. We had no complaints. We pressed in closer and took turns kissing his cheeks and his neck, and nibbling on his ears. Would have gladly made out with him too, but we didn't want to spoil his view.
Rob lifted Justin up by the armpits, wrapped his arms around and kissed him long and deep, sneaking a hand around to slide into his crack and probe his hole. No doubt where this was heading, and all according to plan. Justin turned to give him full access and led him to the nearby bookcase, where a conveniently placed bottle of coconut oil was waiting -- according to Travis, they were scattered all over the house, anticipating a long and busy weekend. Then our big buddy braced himself on the shelf and spread his legs. It was going to be a stand-up fuck. Anything less would've left us disappointed.
Rob pressed his huge cock to Justin's hole and pressed in, pausing every couple inches to let him get used to the size, but our buddy only growled out, "More, more!" He sank his meat into Justin until it was buried completely and began pumping steady and strong. Travis squeezed our cocks with excitement as Rob banged harder and harder, and we laughed and teased his nipples and played with his cock and balls to make him feel he was part of the action.
Justin was grunting loudly with each of Rob's solid thrusts, not holding anything back. The effect on the room was electric. Everyone's attention was drawn to him, and just as much drawn to each other; there was hardly a cock in the room that wasn't in somebody else's hand... or mouth, if it was at all possible to suck dick and still glimpse the show. Even Duncan and the Coach were watching, and distractedly stroking each other.
All that big muscle bucking and mashing together had me as cranked up as anyone else. The sight of Rob's glutes alone, clenching and flexing rhythmically as he drove his meat into Justin, was jack-off material for a month. As he pushed it to the next level, ramming into our buddy like a pile driver, I had to grab Travis's wrist and slow him down -- there'd be a long evening ahead before I lost my first load. We sat and gazed at them, feeling our own body heat rise as we sensed their coming meltdown.
Rob slammed into Justin with all his strength. Our buddy quaked all over, and with Rob's next slam he erupted. Justin poured out his load, rocking the bookshelf and hosing it down, sending a row of his mom's romance novels clattering to the floor. Rob took the cue and unloaded into him, drained his balls into Justin's willing and hungry hole. His massive arms snaked around our buddy and squeezed so tight I didn't think anyone else could have survived it, muscle fibers and veins popping out all over the two of them, beet red from head to toe and dripping sweat.
Slowly the tremors subsided. They breathed easier, loosened their grips on each other, regained a human posture and normal color. Justin turned to face Rob and hugged him tenderly, even as the big stud's juice was trickling down his leg.
I glanced at Travis. Our eyes met. "Fuck yeah!" he grinned.
It was only fitting that Justin should kick off the festivities at his own house -- and it had been one hell of a kickoff. But now the crowd's attention had shifted. They say men have only two emotions -- horny and hungry -- and a sandwich or a blowjob will cure all ills. For a bunch of lean and hungry wrestlers, it was high time for solid food, and the grill was hot and ready. Dessert could wait.
The guys all dug out whatever groceries they'd brought -- slabs of beef, burgers, brats, skewers, ears of corn -- and lined up on the deck to throw them all on the grill. It was a first class setup; you figure any family that raised Justin would have to be equipped to crank out massive quantities of food. But nobody'd ever anticipated feeding twenty-one hungry wrestlers at once. It took a solid hour to give everybody his chance, and that was only because we were so damn starving we'd wolf down whatever had spent four or five minutes over the flame. There were plenty of carb-heavy side dishes too, that we all attacked voraciously -- potato salads, pasta salads, chips with sour cream or cheesy dips -- somebody even brought a big tub of ice cream. It was truly a feast, the kind we wouldn't see again for months, and there was no sense letting the opportunity go to waste.
Afterward we lounged on the deck chairs or just the bare deck savoring the feeling of being well fed and sluggish and contented. When the sun went down we moved inside and sprawled over the furniture together. Sometimes a pair of guys would sneak outside or into a dark corner for some private time, which was never near as private as they intended once the grunting and moaning started -- those sounds carry pretty well on the night air when there's nobody else around for miles. And of course some guys didn't bother sneaking off, they just scratched their itch out in the open. Nobody minded. It was a hell of a lot better than television. Besides, we were brothers.
Andy was one of those who never even heard of being shy. I swear he was on a mission to satisfy every cock in the house. His eyes were everywhere, like a kid in a candy store, and as soon as he got a look in return he'd move in. At the first sign of a twitch he'd have the guy's cock in his mouth, sucking and licking with absolute bliss, and finishing with a big swallow or giving up that world class ass. He was making an awful lot of friends, and quickly becoming the crowd favorite. Even Duncan and the Coach were following his antics and seemed to be utterly entertained.
As the beer and the exertions of the day set in, guys began staking claims on their crash pads for the night. Couches, armchairs, deck furniture filled up quickly; a rug on the floor and a spare pillow became prized commodities. Guys were strewn everywhere, huddled up together for warmth and companionship.
Carter and I invited Brady and Willis to share our bed; it was king sized and there was plenty of room, compared to the many, many nights we'd spent squeezed into our bunks in the dorm. Ben and Greg did the same for their mentors Evan and Matthew, and that unclaimed fourth bedroom went to Coach Wilson and Duncan, no surprises there. My brother and I settled in fully prepared to just lie down and sleep but our boys weren't about to let either of us off so easy.
Brady rubbed up against me. "Are you tired?" he asked softly.
I knew what that meant all right. "Fuck yeah, I'm beat," I told him.
"You tired too?" Willis asked Carter, cuddling up close to him, playing the same game.
"Mm-hmmm," my brother sighed.
"Okay," Brady said. "You guys get some sleep. See you in the morning. G'night."
I closed my eyes and relaxed, and for a moment everything was quiet. Then those two boys ducked under the covers, and in a heartbeat Brady had my cock in his mouth and Willis was sucking on Carter's. At first I thought if I ignored him he'd quit but he sure didn't show any signs of losing interest, and after a good long minute I didn't want him to. That boy knew how to suck cock, knew just the way I liked it, and seemed determined to churn up a load of hot cum.
I stroked his head appreciatively as he worked me up to a raging bone. He'd been letting his hair grow out over the summer and I ran my fingers through and teased his scalp with my fingertips. It seemed to charge him up; he attacked my cock even more eagerly, running his thick wet lips up and down my shaft, massaging it as he went. And Willis's head was bobbing on my brother's meat right beside me, his soft shaggy hair falling on my hip now and again, on that super-sensitive zone at the meeting of my quads and abs and obliques, tickling me mercilessly.
I glanced over at Carter and we shared a smile. We sure had brought up those boys right. What better testament could a mentor get that he'd done his job well than a boy who was ready to suck his cock morning, noon, and night, without even asking for it?
With all I'd done and seen today, no way was I going to last long -- not even half buzzed as I was. It felt way too good, not only the blow job itself but the whole idea of being serviced side by side with my brother by those two gorgeous boys, after almost a whole summer apart. I could hear in the way Carter was huffing that he'd be shooting soon too, so I just relaxed and let it gradually surge up from my balls.
"I'm gonna cum," I warned Brady quietly, and he responded "Mmmm!" Before I knew it my body jerked and I threw a slug of hot cream into his mouth. Instinctively I reached over and squeezed my brother's hand, just as he was beginning to shudder and twitch. Our fingers interlocked and we gripped each other tight and poured out our juices as our boys gulped and lapped and swallowed. We gushed and spurted together until we were spent, and Brady and Willis kept sucking and sucking until there was nothing left.
I can only assume those two boys got up to some fun between themselves once we were done, but we never saw it or heard it. Carter and I were passed out together ten seconds after we finished blowing.
We slept like logs, and in the morning woke up to Brady and Willis sucking our cocks again. No complaints, but enough was enough -- we had a big day ahead, no sense losing a load before our feet even hit the floor. No telling what adventures might be in store. So we thanked them graciously, pulled them off us and made out with them a while -- it's really hard to resist those two, even if we wanted to -- then rolled out of the sack and hustled downstairs to see what was up.
Some of the guys were already outside romping around but most were scrounging up breakfast, whatever they'd brought or whatever they could lay their hands on. Carter and I had some fruit and croissants, the boys had some two-day-old pizza and orange juice and oatmeal bars, and we traded around with the other guys and made a real feast out of it. Waited our turns at the bathroom to shit and brush our teeth, and then busted out of the house heading straight for the lake.
Everybody had the same idea. Within minutes the whole house was in the water splashing around, having the time of our lives. Coach and Duncan were right in the thick of it, and Travis, Justin, the Indiana boys... nobody wanted to miss out. Sex and wrestling are one thing, but an opportunity for naked open-air recreation just can't be wasted. Once again the energy level was boundless, the hormones were flowing, hands were roving, and limp cocks were all but extinct.
But then the dark clouds moved in, lightning bolts started crashing all around, and the rain came down heavy and thick. That's summer in the Upper Midwest. Thunderstorms are a fact of life. We all dragged ourselves out of the water and back uphill to the house, reveling in the downpour hitting our bare bodies but eventually scrambling inside to get out of the sudden chill.
We crowded into the living room and toweled each other off, tossed the wet rags aside and piled together in one big mass on the couch and the adjacent floor sharing our body heat and our lust for smooth raw flesh, muscle bulging and cocks poking out everywhere. Honestly I can't figure how other guys ever make it through life, without a group like this to mash up with.
Duncan and Coach had snagged armchairs side by side and were watching the rest of us with amused little smiles like the proud fathers they were. Rob noticed, broke off from the group and lumbered over. The guy was a behemoth muscle god; standing before his mentor he looked about nine feet tall and as jacked as they come. His arms were the size of some guys' legs. His cock was standing out straight and rigid, and for a minute I thought he was about to come unglued and pounce on Coach Wilson. Then suddenly his legs buckled, his knees hit the floor, he bent in and began sucking Coach's cock.
Everyone fell silent and watched, half expecting Coach to blow up and tear Rob a new asshole. Instead, he just leaned back, shut his eyes and grinned. Our eyes were as wide as fucking dinner plates. We traded looks all around, amazed at this new development. But before anyone dared say a word, Pete jumped up and went down on his old mentor Duncan.
Now a murmur of awe spread through the crowd. Coach was human after all, who knew? And he and his brother Duncan were being treated just as they deserved, for putting us all together as a family, and for making us into real wrestlers -- each of them in his own way. Those two should never go wanting for blow jobs. They should be getting their dicks sucked every time they turned around.
Matthew sure felt the same way. After a few minutes of watching Rob, he stepped up and tapped the big guy on the back to take his place. And Evan, not to be left out, pushed Pete aside and took over. The rest of us were grinning like fiends, gripping each other's cocks or trading headlocks. If they could do it, the door seemed to be wide open. Once again, an opportunity nobody could resist.
Jase and Kyle stepped up next, with Ben and Greg eagerly waiting on deck. We had no idea what the pecking order would be from there on, but all of us wanted a taste of Coach's cock -- or Duncan's -- or both. Without even saying it, the sly glances we exchanged said what everyone was thinking. Whoever made Coach cum and swallowed his load would be the hero of the fucking weekend. And I'm sure some of the guys were taking silent bets on who'd win the prize.
Andy was so amped to get in on the action he was ready to explode, but as much as everyone liked him, what he wanted didn't carry any weight with this crowd. He just didn't have the same history with them as the rest of us. Finally Noah's boy Aiden got with Duncan and waved Andy over -- they'd got to know each other real well last night. The two of them worked Duncan together, sucking his cock and balls in tandem, switching off back and forth.
I should have guessed all along; I knew from experience his skills were second to none. It was Travis's turn on Coach, and he went after it with a vengeance. His tight body -- sleek and brown from a summer on the lake, and not a tan line in sight -- had all of us panting and drooling as he throated Coach's cock like a champ, his tight lean muscles flexing. It wasn't long before Coach was actually making noises, grunting and sighing, and as Travis worked him harder I'd swear I heard a whimper. It only made our buddy more determined to take him all the way and collect a serving of liquid breakfast.
Even Duncan seemed taken by surprise, glancing over again and again at the two of them even as his own meat was being serviced by Carter. Coach's grunts were coming faster and louder, in rhythm with Travis's action. Suddenly he clamped down on Travis's head and forced it into his lap, gripping the chair hard with his other hand. His body tensed; veins snaked out all over him like a roadmap. He jolted, and Travis ducked in deep for a good long swallow; jolted again, and again, blowing his seed down a very willing throat. We were all flat out astounded; it was something we never expected to see. Coach Wilson shooting his load into one of us... right in front of us all.
When the eruptions subsided, Travis backed off and faced the crowd. He wiped his mouth, licked his fingers, flashed a cocky smile and shrugged. "What else could I do? He's my house guest."
We busted up laughing and howling; it was a huge stress release for all of us. Honestly, I couldn't have felt more satisfied if I'd blown a load myself.
By mid-afternoon the storm had passed through and the sun was out again. Everyone charged outside, jumped into the lake or just rolled around together on the wet grass and in the mud. Wrestling matches broke out spontaneously, no pretext or fair notice needed. You wouldn't think "frolicking" was a word you'd ever apply to a bunch of hardcore wrestlers but I don't know how else to describe it. If these guys had horns on their heads, they'd be butting them together... and I think a couple of them may have been hiding a pair.
By dinnertime we'd burned off a buttload of excess energy. We relaxed on the deck as the grill was warming up, sipping beers, chomping on snacks and watching the sun inch down toward the lake. You can't really ask for too many days as good as this one in a lifetime. We all felt as close as could be, like we really were brothers, even the ones who'd never met each other before yesterday afternoon.
If this is what Justin and Travis had planned, they full-on nailed it.
Another world class feast, and we all watched the sunset together, and then drifted indoors two or three at a time. The guys were acting more casual now; the initial excitement had worn off and the need to do something "big" had toned considerably down. Many were coupling up in romantic little pairs, some of them true brothers and others just whoever they were especially clicking with at the time, for long deep makeout sessions in semi-private corners and soulful, unhurried sex.
Carter and I were kicking back enjoying the sight of Jase and Kyle giving full-body massages to their mentors Pete and Rob when Ben approached us.
"Hey, Greg and I were thinking it's been a long time since we've seen you guys. And Matthew and Evan would kinda like to meet your boys. You wanna make a trade for the night?"
My brother and I exchanged a look and a smile. "Hold on, I'll ask `em."
I tracked down Brady and Willis, told them what was up and pointed out Evan and Matthew. Those two were just about their size, 30 or so, and chiseled up like they could step right back into the NCAA today. Tanned and sunbleached and clean cut, they had the total beach boy look. "They live in California," I said.
"Yes!" the boys chirped together.
So Carter and I followed Ben upstairs and into the room next door to ours. Greg was already there waiting, lounging on the bed. I hesitated a second, suddenly unsure about how this was going to play out -- were we all going to pile up together, or pair off -- and if so, who with who? But Ben solved that problem in an instant. He shoved Carter down on the mattress with Greg and pulled me into the corner. His arms wrapped around me and we began making out hungrily, grinding our naked bodies together.
The two of us had never hooked up before but I'd always had a soft spot for Ben. The poor guy spent nine months in prison for something he should've got a fucking medal for -- kicking the shit out of a seventeen-year-old asshole who was beating up a gay kid. He'd come out of there tough as steel, and starving for what the rest of us had all around us every day -- a family of brothers, good healthy sex, and wrestling by a set of rules instead of fighting for his fucking life. Two inches shorter and two weight classes below me, it amazed me that he'd survived it as well as he had. I respected him for that, and always told myself if there was anything he needed from me, he'd earned it.
Now that we were finally mashed up together, holy fuck! He was one of those guys with rock-hard muscles that made it feel like his whole body was carved out of solid wood. Even in the wrestling world, that's fairly rare, and very arousing. I loved just rubbing up against him, feeling those muscles flex and bulge. And Ben sure enjoyed the attention. His hands were roaming all over me, stroking and prodding and squeezing. Our cocks were rigid in no time.
He steered me to the bed and we rolled onto the mattress next to Carter and Greg, who were tangled up playfully nibbling and licking and gnawing on each other. Hearing my brother panting and grunting so close by as Ben and I made out and dry-humped got me even more excited. I stepped up my game, attacking Ben and wrestling him for advantage, and he eagerly joined in and pulled out his arsenal of moves.
He was aggressive as hell but also very tender; the way he handled me and controlled me, it was as if he was going all out with his A-level skills but being just as careful not to hurt me. I sure had no problem with a little roughhousing, but something about his approach felt very sweet and heartwarming and gratifying. I probably would've fought harder to ward off his attacks if he didn't have me in such a comfortable position.
As he worked toward countering my defenses and immobilizing me completely, he leaned in and huffed his hot breath into my ear. "I'm gonna fuck you," he growled. "That fuckin' ass is all mine. I'm gonna own that goddamn hole."
And that was fine by me. His body and his attitude had put me in just the right mood to take some dick. Ben applied leverage to turn me and I willingly rolled over onto all fours, ass up with my knees spread wide. He fingered me while he greased his shaft, then pressed his fat cock head to my hole.
I pushed back as he slid it into me, loving the feeling of his solid meat plunging into my guts and his muscular hips mashing up against my ass cheeks. He started pumping immediately, sensing I was ready, and I rocked back and forth with him as he boned me with long smooth strokes. He grunted on every thrust as he fucked me, vocalizing his pleasure and stirring up mine.
Alongside us, Carter was deep into his own action. Greg was lying on his back, knees pulled up to his shoulders, and my brother was railing him soundly. I caught Greg's eye as they banged away and we traded smiles, each knowing exactly what the other was getting.
Ben seemed to be energized by the romping going on next to us and he kicked up his pace into high gear. He leaned into me, pressing his chest to my spine and wrapping an arm across my ribs. His knees were off the mattress; his toes were dug in for traction. I was supporting both my weight and his as he put his whole body into fucking me, driving his meat in again and again and again.
There was something about being fucked by a smaller guy that always felt so damn good. Maybe I just loved letting the little guy be top dog, or maybe it was the way they felt they could throw everything into it when they were with someone bigger. Whatever it was, Ben had it down perfect. I was leaking precum from almost the moment he'd pushed into me. Now with that tight hard body covering me, every move he made was making my balls churn for him more and more. I was building up to one fuck of a big climax. But I wasn't about to blow before he did; I'd wait till he bred me, and then cut loose.
Easier said than done, of course. He was reaching all the right places and driving me hard toward the finish. I glanced over to Greg and Carter for a distraction, but watching my brother pound a tight lean body was not the way to tone down my excitement. I tried to focus on the sheets, the pillow in front of me, any little noises leaking in from outside... but his fingers wrapped around my cock and started jacking me, and any self-control I had left flew out the window. It would come down to the luck of the draw, and whose nuts would give out first.
Ben was hammering away at my prostate, and jacking me furiously with a good strong grip. It was nearly too much to bear, pleasure that played both sides of the border with pain -- and to a wrestler, there's nothing better. I was out of breath, my face flushed with blood, silently begging -- and wringing out an occasional whimper -- for the shattering orgasm that seemed so close but somehow out of reach.
And then Ben began bucking and thrashing, slamming into me as hard and as deep as he could, growling and yelping. I knew he was dumping his cum into me, and the thought of it was more than I could stand. My body seized up, left me hanging on the edge for what felt like forever, then exploded. I blew my load onto the mattress, jerking and gushing uncontrollably, one spurt after another. My whole body was tingling and blazing as the waves of sheer pleasure and relief rocked through me. Ben spouted his cum into me and I poured mine out onto his bed, a fair trade.
We were just about finished when a blast of hot cream splattered my ribs just under my armpit, ran down my pec and dripped off my left nipple. Greg, blowing his load. Carter had fucked him well, and was now pulling out and finishing off by spouting his load all over Greg's chest and abs. I watched the two of them shoot, grinning at them both.
After that session, we were almost too wrecked to move. The four of us cuddled up together, wallowing in the spent cum, happy to all be sharing a bed for the night full of muscle and sweat and musk.
In the morning, the whole house said our good-byes with one last dip in the lake. It seemed like everybody had got done whatever or whoever they'd set out to do, and were feeling satiated and lethargic. The rowdiness and hijinks of the last two days were considerably restrained. But we could all stand a good rinse-off, and it would take us forever waiting in line for the shower.
We dug into the remaining groceries for a big smorgasbord breakfast, washed down for some with the leftover beer. No sense bringing anything back home with us. Carter and I and the boys hung back to help Justin and Travis deal with the mess. We sent each of our brothers off with hugs and promises to keep in touch.
The cars emptied out of their parking spots in the driveway and along the side of the road. But Duncan's Porsche was still sitting there right where it'd been all weekend.
"Duncan and Coach are still here?" I asked, looking around.
"Yeah," Carter said. "I saw their door was closed. Guess they're getting in one last session for the road. It sounded kinda busy in there."
Justin looked at us funny. "Duncan's down at the lake. I just saw him there."
What the fuck? I took another look outside. Down the road was a crappy little Honda, covered with mud. "Whose car is that?"
Travis giggled. "Guess."
Currock. That little son of a bitch.
Another big weekend at the lake house in the bag, and summer is all but done. Pretty soon the guys will be back on campus, back to training and regular team practices, and back in class. They'll have a lot to sort out -- Ryan's got his team captain responsibilities, Carter needs to take charge of his new weight class, and the boys need to secure their spots in the starting lineup. Meanwhile there'll be a whole new crop of freshmen to look over... sounds like they'll all have plenty to keep themselves busy, but they're sure to have enough time left over for a little recreation too. So, 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! The link to lend your support is here: https://donate.nifty.org/