Christmas break for wrestlers is 48 hours long. Just enough time to travel home for a quick dinner with the folks - half portion, no potatoes, no dessert - and then turn around and hightail it back to the wrestling room on campus to prepare for the first big event of the season.
This was tournament time. Every major program in the country was taking advantage of the opportunity to trot out their best studs and display their dominance. The Cliff Keen Invitational had been held at the beginning of the month in Vegas. The Southern Scuffle in Chattanooga would begin on New Year's Day. But our team always went with the old classic, the Midlands Championships, just three days after Christmas, hosted every year since 1963 by Northwestern University outside Chicago.
The Midlands was an open tournament. That meant Carter and I could register unattached, and wrestle without affecting our redshirt status or eligibility. But it also meant we'd be facing some tough competition. In addition to some of the top wrestlers in the NCAA, the Midlands attracted a lot of guys who had already graduated and were wrestling internationally, training for a run at the Olympics, or just feeding their hunger to compete.
With 64 slots in each weight class, and as many as ten matches to wrestle over the course of two days, it'd be a long, hard road to the end.
I was excited as hell on the night before it began. Our team sent sixteen wrestlers - the ten starters, plus six "developmental" cases including Carter and me. As usual, our cheapskate school had packed us in as tight as they could; four wrestlers to a hotel room, two wrestlers per bed. They probably figured wrestlers were pretty comfortable with being mashed up against another guy. Little did they know just how comfortable we were. Naturally, Jase and Kyle made sure they were sharing a room with Carter and me.
Once we'd settled in, the coaches pulled Jase and Kyle away to study video of the competition. They were hoping those two would make the finals and wanted to give them every little edge they could get. For Carter and me, there was no such personal attention. We were there to gain some experience, nothing more. They just told us to hit the sack early and get some sleep.
Well, at least we got the first part right.
We slid beneath the sheets together, feeling the coolness of the fresh linens and the warmth of our smooth bodies as we wrapped our arms around each other and held on tight. I loved the feeling of his flesh pressed against mine, maybe more than anything else on earth. Our muscles meshed together as if we were made for each other. I closed my eyes and relished every little detail of his body, his meaty biceps clasped around my rib cage, thick quads rubbing gently against mine, small hard nipples poking into my skin, abs grinding together as our breath flowed in and out of our lungs. Our quickly hardening cocks prodding and teasing each other.
I felt his lips on mine and met them eagerly. We kissed with unhurried passion, lips parting and tongues playing, leisurely devouring each other and giving ourselves up to be devoured. When Carter and I kissed I truly felt we shared our souls. He was a part of me, my true brother. I'd do anything for him.
I kissed his neck and he made a low growling sound and flexed his hips to rub his hard cock against mine. I reached beneath the sheets and wrapped my fingers around his shaft, stroked him slow and gentle until I felt him leaking warm wet precum. He quivered as I smeared his cream over his sensitive cock head with my thumb. I pulled my hand to my lips for a quick taste, then stroked his cock harder using his juice for lube. He thrust his cock in and out of my hand gratefully as I squeezed and massaged his eager meat, his breath hot and thick on the back of my neck as I kissed and licked his chest.
Slowly I worked my way down his torso, nibbling and kissing. I took his fat head in my lips and slid his meat smoothly into my mouth. God, I loved the feeling of sucking his cock. I loved how it made him pant with longing, how it made his whole body tense and twitch when he was close to cumming. I jammed his meat into my throat as deep as I could, gliding my lips over his veiny shaft, one hand holding his abs down firmly while the other slipped a wet slick finger into his hole and probed for that special spot that made his precum flood out and drip onto my tongue. He tasted so damn good.
We both knew there was no need to drag things out tonight. What we needed was a quick release and a long, good night's sleep. I bobbed my head on his cock mercilessly, tormented his hole with my finger, until his whole body rocked and he gushed a thick load of cream in my mouth, spurting uncontrollably again and again as I eagerly swallowed. He guided my head off his cock, pulled me up until I was even with him and kissed me deeply, sharing the last unswallowed bit of his cum that I'd held back just for him.
And then it was my turn to tremble and moan as he dove under and gave me his lips and tongue. He sucked my cock so willingly, so sweetly, the stubble on his chin prickling my ball sack making me yelp with pleasure. In minutes I was draining my load into his mouth, my body jerking as he licked and lapped and sucked me dry. We breathed huge dreamy sighs and lay together side by side, his head resting comfortably on my shoulder, my arm splayed over his abs, cupping his balls and softening cock.
The door latch clicked and light poured in from the hall as Kyle and Jase entered the room. Instantly we froze and lay still, eyes shut, breathing softly pretending to be asleep. They stopped for a moment between the two beds and I knew they were looking us over. We each stayed quiet, playing our game, but eased one eye open and then the other just a tiny slit when they started moving again.
We watched them peel each other's T-shirts off and paw at each other's hugely muscled torsos. They shed the rest of their clothes and stood facing each other with half hard cocks, groping and kneading each other's triceps, pecs, quads; pinching nipples and fondling balls. They moved in closer until their bodies mashed together, wrapped their arms around and held each other tight. Kissing hungrily, lips smacking, hands roaming over muscled backs and ass cheeks.
Carter and I had never seen the two of them together like this before. We gaped at them breathlessly with eyes as big as dinner plates watching every move our heroes made. Without knowing it they were once again acting as our mentors; we drank in the sight of them romping and grinding and loving each other like it was an essential life lesson. I gripped Carter's hand. Our fingers interlaced and he pressed his cheek to my shoulder as we watched those two world class studs grapple and manhandle each other onto their bed.
Jase shoved Kyle onto the mattress on his back, straddled him, reached for the lube on the nightstand and greased Kyle's cock. He positioned himself above the tip of that thick stiff rod, squatted down on it, then growled in painful pleasure as his hole spread around Kyle's swollen meat and he took in every bit of it inch by inch until it was completely buried in his ass. He began to ride, back and forth relentless and deliberate, bearing down and working Kyle's cock until they were both grunting like animals.
Kyle seemed barely able to hold out much longer but Jase pulled away, greased his own cock and lifted Kyle's knees up to his shoulders. He jammed into Kyle forcing a loud, deep grunt and began ferociously banging away. Jase threw himself into his buddy with no restraint until Kyle began to buck and thrash, bounced Jase off and rolled him over on his stomach, dove in and started plowing his ass. The two of them flip-fucked wildly as we held each other close and gazed wide-eyed from our bed at the incredible show of rampant, untamed muscle, the room quickly filling with the thick scent of sweat and sex and the sounds of two rogue lions fucking their brains out.
This is how real men fuck, I told myself. And I knew Carter and I were on the same page by the way he wrapped his arm around me and held on tight.
Finally those bull studs reached their limit. They kneeled on the mattress facing each other, leaning in with foreheads resting together, one hand cradling his brother's head and the other jacking his cock. They erupted together, blasting hot thick streams over each other's chests and abs, spurting cream until they were completely spent, then lay down together and dutifully licked each other clean. Carter and I were so amazed we couldn't move a muscle; we just lay there holding each other, gazing at the way their gorgeous, muscled bodies glistened in the dark.
"Awright ya little monkeys, get to sleep," Kyle snarled. "You're wrestlin' in the morning!"
The atmosphere at the arena was electric. Hundreds of wrestlers all amped up and high on testosterone nervously burned off excess energy, postured and flexed as they waited for their chance to compete. Eight matches went on at once side by side; the sounds of bodies slamming onto the mats, refs yelling out points and warnings, muscled bodies clashing filled the air as a raucous crowd - including Duncan - cheered on the action from the teeming stands. The locker room was a madhouse of muscle and raw flesh, ripped naked bodies lined up by the dozens in front of the scales for the weigh-in, jammed in so close together they casually brushed against each other without caring or even noticing. Semi-hard cocks were the uniform of the day as everyone sized up his opponents in their natural state.
Show me a wrestler and I'll show you a guy who loves to be naked. Show me two, and I'll show you two guys who'd love to be naked together, whether there's sex involved, or wrestling, or just showing off. That's the way it is in our sport, and always has been, since ancient times. Raw animal instinct goes with the territory. To be a good wrestler, you need to be a damn healthy animal.
Carter and I studied the brackets carefully. If the two of us kept winning, sooner or later we'd meet each other on the mat. There was no rivalry between us. If it came down to it we'd each wrestle our hardest, and wrestle with the utmost respect. Losing to my true brother could never bring me down; I loved seeing him do well, and besides, everything would even out in the end.
But it turned out the luck of the draw would keep us apart. For my very first match I was up against one of the top seeds. I did my best but the guy was just too fast, too strong, too experienced. He countered all my moves and had me down by four points before I knew it. I made a good showing and wrestled hard to the very end but I was clearly overmatched, and just like that I was sent down to fight my way back up through the losers' bracket.
Meanwhile, Carter had an easier draw. His first round opponent was unranked, a redshirt like us, and he blew through the guy with no trouble. Then came his second, against a more seasoned wrestler. He summoned all his skills to pull off an amazing last-minute takedown and squeak by with a hard-won decision. I yelled my lungs out for him on each magnificent victory and gave him an enormous hug on the sidelines afterward. The excitement of seeing my buddy advance carried me through two matches of my own as Jase's training kicked in and I demolished two startled opponents, leaving each of us just one more match for the day.
Through all of this we wrestled with cocks as stiff as flagpoles, showing ourselves off unashamedly through the thin tight Spandex of our singlets. If nothing else, our mentors had taught us to appreciate and embrace the blatantly carnal nature of our sport. Wrestling is an intensely sexual activity. Accepting that fact openly instead of trying to hide it or push it away only freed us up to compete at our very best.
Then came Carter's third match, in the Round of 16. He was wrestling Hector Alomar, a top contender from Arizona State. Carter plotted his strategy carefully, putting up a strong head-hands defense and playing a cautious game throughout the entire first period while he got a sense of Hector's moves. In the second period he started from the down position, executed a lightning-fast escape to take a one-point lead and instantly lunged in on a single-leg shot. The two tangled up in a tight, frantic scramble, each of them struggling desperately to pry off the other's arms and legs, take the top position and gain control.
Hector latched onto Carter's ankle and torqued his knee in a way that made him grimace and cry out in pain. The referee quickly blew his whistle for a potentially dangerous hold but as they untangled themselves Hector rolled over Carter's knee and wrenched it even worse. Carter tried his best to recover but it was no use; he couldn't finish the match. The ref raised Hector's hand in victory as Carter hobbled painfully off the mat.
I knew that son of a bitch had done it on purpose. It infuriated me to see him at the center of the mat exulting in front of the crowd, as if the scumbag had earned the win fairly. With all my soul I longed to rush to Carter's side, but even more I wanted to leap onto the mat and rip that bastard to shreds. I took one raging step toward him but a meaty hand clamped down on my shoulder and held me back.
"Not your problem," Jase said. "You have your own battle to fight."
"But that asshole - "
"They're calling your match!" Duncan yelled to me, leaning over the railing of the stands.
I stared at them dumbly until Jase gave me a violent shake.
"Fuck that anger!" he shouted. "You're here to wrestle! Go do your goddamn job!"
"Get out there and make us proud!" Duncan yelled.
I took a last glance over at Carter as Kyle helped him limp to the locker room, then turned and stepped up into my circle. Suddenly everything had taken on a whole new meaning. I was no longer wrestling for myself. I was wrestling for the honor of my sport, and for the honor of my family.
I blocked all the noise and distractions from my head as I faced off with my opponent at the center of the circle. For a few endless seconds there was nothing in the world but myself and the guy in front of me, each of us tensed and waiting to begin. I soaked up the sight of him just inches away, how his body matched up against mine, how our stances aligned; the sounds of our heavy breathing, measured and impatient; the smell of our bodies - after three grueling matches apiece we were both as rank as goats - mingling in the thick humid air.
The whistle blew and I exploded and tore into the guy with an aggressive double-leg shot; he countered with a sprawl and I snagged his head looking for a collar tie. He attempted a duck-under that I saw coming a mile away - my vision had never been so clear; it seemed like he was moving in slow motion - and I caught him in mid-step at the moment he was off balance and quickly threw him to the mat on his back, tied up his arms and pressed down on his chest with all my weight until his bridge caved in and his shoulders hit the mat for a fall. It was over just like that, and not even ten seconds had ticked off the clock.
Everything around me went crazy; a huge roar went up from the crowd and my coaches and Jase were yelling joyfully and jumping up and down at the sidelines. For a second I was just dazed. By reflex I pulled off the colored ankle bands; the ref raised my hand and I heard a swell of applause and instinctively I shook hands with my opponent. Then things came back into focus again and I looked around, bolted and charged out of the arena, sprinting down the tunnel to the locker rooms.
I found Carter with a big icepack taped around his knee, Kyle and one of our assistant coaches looking on. The EMTs were preparing him for a ride to a nearby clinic and I demanded to go along; the coach started to protest but I told them I was his brother, and the two of us were so close to the same size and even looked enough alike that nobody argued about it. Kyle only smiled and nodded to me. He understood.
I stuck by Carter's side every minute throughout the examination. They barely got me to let go of his hand even long enough to take his pulse. Thankfully the X-rays were negative; there were no broken bones. We'd need an MRI to tell if any ligaments were torn and that would have to wait until we got back to campus, but the doc at the clinic said it looked like it was nothing more than a sprain. I gripped Carter's hand and we breathed an enormous sigh of relief.
We caught an Uber back to the hotel, stopped for a bite at the Denny's next door - both of us still in our wrestling gear and stinking like dogs but damn it, we were hungry - and then I helped him to our room. The other guys must have been back for hours by now. I opened the door and we stepped inside to find Jase and Kyle kneeling on opposite sides of the mattress stark naked, forehead to forehead, knees spread wide, arms locked up in an inside tie. Duncan stood on one side of the bed behind Kyle, just as naked, balls deep in his ass and banging away. And on the other side of the bed was a tall, muscular beast of a guy I didn't know from Adam, giving Jase the same.
Our mentors had each won all three of their matches today. Now they needed to offload some stress, so they could reset and wrestle like champs again in the morning.
"Who the hell - " I muttered under my breath.
"I recognize him," Carter whispered. "It's Pete Wagner. He wrestled with our program a few years back. I think he coaches at Indiana now."
Pete Wagner. I knew the name. He was Jase's mentor, back in the day.
We eased back on our bed and watched as those four studs put on an exhibition of good hard sex and brotherhood. I held Carter in my arms and snuggled against his neck. The feeling of his body against mine, the rank, sour smell of his sweat were like heaven to me. I could have stayed just like that watching the melee with him for hours on end. But -
"We better hit the shower," I told him. "When this thing's done, it's gonna get crowded as hell in there."
Carefully I unwrapped Carter's knee and helped him out of his singlet before stripping down myself. He leaned with both arms on my shoulders as we stepped into the pummeling stream of hot water. I soaped his body, rubbing each muscle tenderly and washing him clean. The meds they gave him had dulled his pain and put him in a mellow mood but still I was extra cautious not to hurt him or cause him unneeded worry. He'd put himself in my hands and I wanted to show he could trust me no matter what.
Carter responded gratefully by soaping my shoulders and back as I scrubbed my own fetid body. He leaned in and we kissed, and his hands drifted down to massage my ass cheeks and slide his fingers along my crack. We made out hungrily as he wrapped a soapy hand around my cock and stroked; I reached for his stiff meat and returned the favor, pressing my chest to his and backing him up against the tiled wall using my strength to support us both. Soon enough I felt a quiver in his breath and then his hot cream splattering on my abs, the steaming torrent from the shower washing it down our legs and into the drain.
I gently toweled him off before drying myself, then carefully rewrapped his knee.
We emerged from the bathroom to find the session had ended. Duncan and Pate had vanished, and our mentors were relaxing, sprawled together in a comfortable heap. I helped Carter onto our bed but before I could join him they told us they'd decided to switch the sleeping arrangements. It had been a very big day for Carter and me, and they knew we needed some special attention. I climbed into bed with Jase in Kyle's place and Kyle lay down with Carter.
Jase wrapped his arm around me and held me close from behind, playing the part of the big spoon. I loved the feeling of his big muscular body curled around me, his beefy arm across my chest. When he took ownership of me like that he made me feel so needed, so cared for, so protected and secure. It gave me such an incredible sense of freedom to be able to give myself to him completely, to forget about my own worries and trust without a doubt that he would guide me wherever I needed to go. His body was my safe haven; I was his to own.
Jase lifted my leg gently. His thick lubed cock slid along my crack and pushed into my hole, stretching and filling me. I whimpered softly and contentedly as he began to pump me slow and steady, in and out.
"Good boy," he crooned into my ear. "That's my good boy. You're such a good boy."
I dripped with pleasure hearing those words, wanting so badly to be his good boy, taking his cock in deeper and deeper with every thrust. He stroked my meat and teased the head, smeared my precum onto his fingers and then raised them to my lips so I could eagerly suck them and keep sucking them long after they were clean. His thrusts became more powerful and insistent; his hand latched onto my cock and jacked me until it erupted in his hand, blowing hot spurts of cream over my abs and chest and the sheets as he unleashed his own load inside me. I moaned long and low, wholly satisfied in body and soul. And I could tell by the sounds from Carter's bed that he was being well taken care of too.
I fell asleep still drenched in my own cum, with Jase's arm still around me, his softening cock still inside me and his hot cream filling me. I was as happy as could be.
The morning began at the arena with some amazingly good news. Hector had lost his quarterfinal match. That meant if I could just win two more matches, I'd be squaring off with him on the mat. My whole body crackled with anticipation at the thought of tying into that bastard and settling the score. My cock grew thicker and stiffer with every jackhammer beat of my heart.
I was in the locker room, about to step into my jockstrap, when Duncan strolled in and pushed his way through the crowd of gearing up wrestlers.
"You did a great job yesterday," he said. "Both on and off the mat. And so did your brother."
"Thanks. I just hope I get a shot at that son of a bitch. If I can win my matches this morning - "
"Ah, so you want to go after Hector. Okay, little Achilles. But don't forget what happened the first time around."
"I know. I'll try not to piss off the gods. And I'll watch out for my heel."
He smiled. "Just remember, it's never about the other guy, it's about you. You have to always respect your sport, respect your family. Respect who you are."
"I will. I do."
Duncan gave me a deep, loving hug and I wrapped my arms around him and held on tight, his hand wandering down to fondle my ass cheek, fingertips tickling my crack. It made no difference to us that I was bare ass naked, that my cock was stiff as a board and we were jammed into the middle of a crowd of half-naked and fully naked wrestlers. The two of us were family after all.
Those two early matches were nothing more than a blur. My head was at once immersed in the moment and somewhere far away. I was wrestling by reflex, laser focused on my opponents' moves, reading each tiny shift in stance to block an attack or go after an opening just the way Jase had drilled me. Beyond that, the bigger picture was out of view. I heard the ref's whistles, followed the direction shouted by my coaches, but the matches themselves passed by almost beneath my notice. Like climbing a mountain, I took each step trusting that somewhere I'd reach the top, but the last step was forgotten as soon as I'd made the next. I heard the crowd's cheers, felt the ref raise my hand, watched my opponents go off in defeat with no sense of winning anything but the chance to go on fighting.
And then they were calling my name for the match against Hector. I bounded into the circle slick with sweat and bristling with energy, my hard cock swelling against the tight Spandex of my singlet. I glanced up to the stands and saw Carter sitting with Duncan; breathed a sigh of relief knowing he was well taken care of, and locked in on my prey with a steely eyed glare. The ref blew the whistle and it was on.
In the first period I was too eager; I lunged in for a score but he countered, and on a lightning-quick re-shot he took me down. I managed an easy escape but from there he stayed on the defensive and the minutes ticked by before I could get off another shot. He led me two points to one.
The second began with me in the down position. Once again I cut loose and evened the score but once again he played defense, keeping his guard up to leave me no shots without ever chancing one of his own. We were tied at two apiece.
The third period was my turn to start out on top. There was no way I'd let that fuckwad get free. After all the oiled-up, naked wrestling I'd done with Jase, the one thing I knew very well was how to hold onto a guy so he couldn't squirm loose. I rode him relentlessly, breaking him down flat and grinding my hard cock into his ass crack for good measure. The ref even warned him for stalling, I had him so utterly ensnared. He was my bitch and he knew it as I mashed his face into the mat, cranked his arm behind his back and blew a hot and heavy breath into his ear.
But with seconds to go the ref called a stalemate and reset us at the center, and this time he slipped out of my grasp. I had the riding time point locked in but we ended regulation tied at three; it would be settled in overtime. Whoever scored next would win the match.
I glared straight into his eyes as we froze in position waiting to begin, my stiff cock leaking through my jock oozing precum onto my sweat-soaked singlet. I wanted this fucker so bad my balls ached. The whistle blew and I burst off my feet and charged; Hector instinctively backpedaled away and in a panic stepped clear out of the circle. The whistle blew again. An automatic stall call for fleeing the mat, second offense, one point to his opponent. The ref raised my hand in victory.
I couldn't even dream of a more fitting end. In front of a packed arena and half the top wrestlers in the NCAA, first I'd made him my indisputable bitch and then he'd exposed himself as a pussy by losing the match without even wrestling. I capped off the match by flashing a quick double-biceps pose to the crowd. In the stands, Carter and Duncan hugged each other and yelled for me wildly.
From there, my tournament was all but over. I had one more match to wrestle but I was so physically and emotionally drained I could barely drag myself onto the mat. At least I lost to a real wrestler. And I wrestled with honor.
I'd finished eighth in my weight class at the Midlands Championships, a very big deal for a freshman. Tons of guys gave me congrats in the locker room - including Pete, who stopped by with two of his wrestlers to tell me what a great job I'd done. One look in their eyes and I knew they were family; I gave each a big grin and thanked them profoundly, and told them I hoped to see them when our teams wrestled a dual meet next month.
Jase was beside himself with hugs and compliments, even though he was the real star - he'd come out on top of his weight class, and Kyle had taken third in the next weight class up. The way those two were treating me, I truly felt I'd earned my place. I was still Jase's boy and it made me so proud to show him everything he'd done for me was beginning to pay off.
On the long bus ride back to campus Carter and I sat together, my arm around his shoulders, holding him close. I didn't give a fuck about what anybody thought. He was my true brother and a damn fine wrestler and I loved him with all my heart. Nobody on the bus had any room to argue with that.
And then the trip was over and we were alone in Carter's dorm room, lying naked together, sharing a bunk. He was more than ready to play but I didn't want to stress his knee so I begged him just to lie still and let me take care of him. I grazed over his body with lips and tongue, searching out all the tender spots that made him catch his breath and quiver and giggle - his neck, his armpits, his nipples, his navel, his inner thighs all the way up to his crotch, the soft flesh just beneath his ball sack. I took his cock in my mouth and sucked and sucked, never wanting to quit, loving the way he gently stroked my head and moaned soft and low, loving how I knew it made him feel when he unleashed and gushed a hot sweet load of cream in my throat and I drank and gulped it down until he was dry. I couldn't think of a better reward for all my hard work on the mat.
Carter's roomie had already cleared out. Tomorrow I'd move my stuff over and the two of us would be together every morning, every day, every night. His knee would heal and our mentors would teach us and we'd become two stud wrestlers just like Jase and Kyle, standing together fearlessly against all comers. It was going to be epic.
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